


Breathe In

by thegalrahobbitofplantetgalilfrey



Series: Breathe [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Asthma, Blood, Fluff, Gen, gladiator fights, in-between kerberos launch and start of voltron, keith is bad at having friends, keith's pov, shiro's capture, shiro's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-01 03:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegalrahobbitofplantetgalilfrey/pseuds/thegalrahobbitofplantetgalilfrey
Summary: Even in space, Shiro has Keith's back.At least, that's how it was SUPPOSED to go.This is set in-between the launch of the Kerberos mission and where we first meet Lance





	1. There for You

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read my work "Blood and Genetics" please read that first, or you won't understand this. Seriously. You won't understand a word. Go read the other one.

Keith stared up at the stars, a telescope that he’d stolen from the astronomy lab trained on Kerberos. Shiro wouldn’t be there yet- right now, he’d be close, within a day or two’s travel. And he wouldn’t be able to see the little ship with his telescope anyway. But still. Just looking at the surface of Pluto’s small moon made him feel closer to his friend.

Keith sighed, and slid down the drainpipe, crawling back through the window to his room. The light was off, and he could barely make out the shape of his stuffed hippo, Po, sitting on the dresser.

“Night, Po,” he whispered. He frowned up at the ceiling, which was a dark blur. His lungs were feeling tighter than they normally did after exercise. He reached for his inhaler, just in case, but in the dark, his fingers missed and knocked it over, and it clattered to the floor, rolling under the bed.

 _Gah- stupid_.

Xxx

Shiro stared out at the deep space ahead of him, his mind both completely on his mission and enjoying the thrill of being out in space.

His wristwatch beeped, and he looked at it with a frown. His muscles shouldn’t… he made a small choking noise. Keith.

Xxx

Keith wheezed, halfway under the bed, unable to see the inhaler in the dark. _Shiro’s coming- Shiro **always** comes_. A small, rational part of his mind argued that Shiro _couldn’t_ come, because he was up in _space_ , but that part was ignored. _He’s always there for me_ …

Xxx

“Matt!”

Matt answered the com sleepily. “Shiro? What’s wrong?”

“I need you to message your sister.”

“I can’t- you know that—”

“Matt, cut it out, I _know_ that you can do it. You’re not fooling anyone but the Garrison officers. I need you to message Katie.”

“Fine. What do you need me to message her?”

“Keith needs help.”

“He’s got asthma, right?”

“Yeah, and my bracelet sent me an alarm- please, Matt, I don’t want him to be alone, not if he’s having an attack!”

“Alright. Alright. I’ll do it. I don’t know what you think that _Katie_ is going to do about it. She doesn’t live close to the Garrison.”

Xxx

Griffin blinked blearily at his computer as it lit up with a message. What…? Who was messaging him at this hour?! He shuffled to the computer. Katie. Of course. He needed to stop leaving his computer on at night.

 _Keith’s in trouble_.

Griffin blinked.

 _What_?

 _Keith’s in trouble_.

 _How do you know_?

 _I just know. Get moving_!

 

Griffin grumbled, sighed, and moved towards the door. _Girls_ , and their stupid  _feelings_ , robbing him of his sleep. Why was Katie even _up_ right now?! And why would she think that something was wrong with Keith? As far as Griffin knew, he was in his room, where he was supposed to be, and not in any danger whatsoever. But he’d still have to check. Katie wouldn’t give him any peace until he did. He kind of regretted exchanging emails with her.

Griffin waited for the patrol guard to pass by and then went outside, going down a few doors, yawning. He knocked on Keith’s door.

“Keith? You okay? You asleep, unlike me?” There was no answer. “Guess he’s asleep. I _knew_ it. Last time I listen to Katie.” Griffin turned to go, but then the thought of Katie asking him for details to prove that he’d really checked on Keith made him turn around and open the door.

“Keith?” Griffin yelped and jumped back. There was a body. On the ground. He flipped on the lightswitch and saw that it was Keith, half under the bed. “What are you doing under there, idiot?”

Keith didn’t respond, and Griffin grabbed his ankles, yanking him out into the light. He was wheezing, and Griffin frowned.

“What the…?”

He peered under the bed and saw an inhaler, rolled up against the wall, definitely out of reach for how far Keith had been. Griffin wriggled under the bed and strained to reach it. His fingers brushed it, and he grabbed it, pulling it out and reemerging triumphantly from under the bed. “Got it!” He glanced at Keith, who was still wheezing, and thrust it into his hands. “ _You_ take it, I don’t know how to use this thing!”

He looked away, waiting for Keith to stop making that wheezing noise. “You and Katie have a psychic connection or something?” He spared a quick glance at Keith. “Should I go get the doctors?”

“No,” Keith gasped, “I can handle it.”

Griffin sat crisscross on Keith’s bed, frowning down at him. “Yeah, I can tell that by how well you’re breathing right now.”

“Get off of my bed,” Keith muttered crossly around the inhaler.

“You have asthma?”

“Thought you knew everything.”

“Huh. It makes sense. I mean, you collapsed that once in gym class- I thought that they just added you back into the class too fast over the smoke inhalation incident, but I guess there was something else. You hide it well. Never would’ve guessed if… does Katie know?”

“ _I_ never told her.” Keith closed his eyes. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“What, about your asthma? I don’t really have a reason to, do I?”

“You didn’t have a reason to tell anyone about my stupid, changing eyes, either!”

“Oh, are you finally admitting that happened? Anyway, that was weird and freaky. Asthma is normal.”

“Get out of my room.”

“You’re _welcome_ ,” Griffin told him aggrievedly as he left, checking the hallway for a guard before dashing off to his room and going to his computer.

_He has asthma, apparently._

_Had an attack, but he’s fine now._

_He wasn’t very grateful for the save_.

_Yelled at me._

_But what else is new?_

_Thank you_.

 _Well, it’s nice that **someone** is grateful_.

Xxx

“Keith is safe,” Matt called up to Shiro, “Katie had another cadet take care of it.”

Shiro breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Matt.”

“Sure. Just don’t be waking me up while I’m sleeping again. Even for your adorable pointy sword cadet.”

Xxx

Keith looked out at the stars, debating whether or not to go to Dr. Jenny, who was more or less in charge of him when it came to his asthma. One the one hand, Shiro would tell him to check in after any attack. On the other hand, it would lead to more tests, time wasted in the doctor’s office, and Dr. Jenny making not-so-subtle hints that she wanted to see Keith’s DNA to find a better medication match for him.

Plus, Shiro and Dr. Jenny both over-worried. Keith was fine. He didn’t need a doctor’s appointment for Dr. Jenny to tell him to be more careful and to avoid his triggers.

Shiro had pulled through. Keith _knew_ it. He didn’t know _how_ he had contacted Katie, but somehow, he’d gotten Griffin to come in and check on him. Keith rubbed his bracelet thoughtfully.

 _Thank you, Shiro_. Keith glanced at the clock and groaned. Two hours until it was time to wake up.

He didn’t sleep much, and when his alarm went off, he just sighed, rolling out of bed and changing into his Garrison uniform, rubbing his forehead with a sigh. Looked like another one of those days.

The mess hall was still fairly empty by the time that he got there, and he grabbed his food and sat down. A cadet in his year, a girl whose name he didn’t know despite having been in the same flight group for several years now, was leading a group of new cadets around, pointing out important parts of the Garrison.

“Who’s that?” Keith could practically feel the finger being pointed at him.

“That’s one of the senior cadets, Keith Kogane. Anyway, moving on—”

“Why is he so far away from everyone else?”

 _Because I **want** to be_, Keith thought grumpily, _And I can **hear** you, you know_. Had he been this impertinent as a thirteen-year-old recruit? _Probably_.

“It’s still early,” the flustered guiding cadet answered, “His friends just- aren’t here yet. We need to get moving. Come on, let’s go.”

 _My friends are in space. Or in town_.

“Hey, Keith.” Dr. Jenny slid in next to him. “So, how are you feeling.”

“Fine.”

“Asthma been acting up?”

“No.”

“Really? No attacks?”

“Nope.”

“Yeah? Then why did one of your classmates come into my office this morning to tell me that you had an attack last night?”

“ _What_?”

“James Griffin came in and told me that last night, you had an asthma attack.”

Keith crossed his arms. “Griffin is a liar. How would he know about anything I was doing last night? You should look into what he’s doing at nighttime.”

“Keith, stop dodging the topic. Did you have an attack?”

Keith looked down at his plate. “Yeah.”

“Keith, you can’t blow this off. Asthma attacks aren’t something that you can just—”

Keith got up to go. “I’ve got to go to class.”

“Sit down,” Dr. Jenny ordered.

“My first period—”

“Sit. Down.”

Keith sat down.

Dr. Jenny rubbed her temples. “Keith, you need to start taking responsibility and taking this seriously. I don’t know _what_ you are doing to set the attacks off—”

 _Climbing around at night_. _Sneaking out and hoverbiking in the desert_. Technically, he had a legal license, and shouldn’t have to sneak out. But there were _way_ too many forms he had to fill out to get permission to leave campus- he was still a year away from being a legal adult- and Keith didn’t want to go through all of the trouble if he could just leave when he wanted without telling anyone.

“—but you can’t dismiss them. They can get incredibly serious. Or do you not remember the desert incident?”

Keith avoided her eyes furiously. Nearly four years ago he and Shiro had been stranded in a desert sandstorm- his fault, not Shiro’s- and he’d forgotten his inhaler in a different pocket. It had been… not fun, and it had been Shiro who had saved him.

“Yeah,” he said in answer to Dr. Jenny’s question, “I remember.”

“Good. You’re a capable teenager. You need to start acting like one.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Good.” Dr. Jenny stood up to go.

“You’re not going to eat breakfast?”

Dr. Jenny laughed. “Eat a _Garrison_ breakfast? When I already made and ate pancakes at home? Why would I do that?”

She walked away, and Keith poked at his own Garrison breakfast. Yeah. He’d prefer homemade pancakes, too.

After they ran through simulations, Keith grabbed Griffin’s collar, yanking him to a halt with an _urk_ noise. “We need to talk.”

“About what? About how I nearly just beat you in the simulator? Because there’s nothing to talk about. I’m just about to beat you with pure skill.”

“You weren’t even close. I was talking about Dr. Jenny.”

“I don’t know any Dr. Jenny’s.”

“Yes you do! You went and ratted me out to her!”

“Oh, you mean Dr. Jennifer Orla. Yeah, we had a little talk this morning. She’s nice.”

Keith seized Griffin’s collar. “I told you not to talk about it!”

Griffin brushed his hands away. “Look, Dr. Orla already knows about your… condition. There’s no reason not to tell her that you had an attack.”

“Except that I told you not to!”

“And I went and told her anyway? Oh, wait, that’s right. I didn’t _agree_ that I wouldn’t tell her. Sucks for you.”

“Griffin, I swear—”

“Keith. We’re not the only flight group. There are two others- remember Ina from our old school? Ina Leifsdottir? She’s in one of them. I met this guy called Ryan Kinkade the other day. He’s in one of them, too, with a talented girl named Nadia Rizavi. After this year, the Garrison selects the best from each flight group to move on. But it’s not all about your personal scores. The higher up your flight group is on rankings, the more likely you as an individual to get into the program you want- and competition for fighter class or the space mission program is fierce. This isn’t just about _you_. If you flunk, all of us could end up in _cargo pilot_ class.”

“Yeah, so?”

“That means that _your_ health affects _all_ of us. If you have an attack in the simulator, we could all _fail_. We’ll end up cargo pilots or worse- completely thrown out of the Garrison. I don’t know why you wanted to keep the attack from Dr. Orla. But it’s not fair to the rest of us for _you_ to flunk us out. Flight groups are supposed to work as a _team_. That means that we build each other up. Not drag each other down for our own selfish reasons.”

“Yeah? I notice that you weren’t all about that four years ago!”

“Four years ago, it didn’t matter! It was just middle school! But now- now this is _real_. We’re sixteen, seventeen years old. It’s like with high-school, going onto college- what we do now will actually affect what we do next. So, yeah, I ratted you out. Because I don’t want our whole flight group to suffer because of you.”

He and Keith were locked in a glare, Keith looking up at Griffin because _why hadn’t **he** hit a huge growth spurt, it wasn’t **fair**_. Keith broke the glare first, storming away, his bag over his shoulder.

“Snitches get stitches,” he growled.

“You’re _welcome_ ,” Griffin called after him, “Next time you’re gasping on the floor, I’ll _leave you like that_!”

“Good! I didn’t ask for you to stick your stupid nose in my business!”

Keith slammed the door behind him. After Griffin had saved him from a fire, they’d settled into a nodding acquaintance- they hadn’t talked much, unless Katie forced them, and they’d just kind of nodded when they saw each other, provided that Griffin wasn’t being obnoxious about the simulator scores. But it looked like that was over.

 _Should’ve known it wouldn’t last. Griffin always **is** sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong_. Keith scowled at the floor. _I was just starting to feel friendly towards my flight group, too_...


	2. See-through

Sanda tapped her foot impatiently. “Talk to me, Iverson. What are we looking at?”

Iverson slowly rotated the 3-D model of Keith’s mother and other possible looks for the aliens, all based on Keith’s X gene. An incident where Keith’s eyes had turned animalistic had brought around genetic test, which had shown that Keith’s X gene was inhuman. “Extraterrestrials, ma’am. Well- how we think that they’d look. Coleen Holt really pulled through for us- she has several models of possible—”

“That is, of course, assuming that she got her models of gene expression correct.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Sanda studied the models. “How do we kill one of these things?”

“Kill?”

“Yes, Commander! I want to know how we can defend ourselves from these creatures, should it come to that!”

“Well, as far as we know, the same way you kill anything else.”

“Really? We know, then, where their vitals are?”

“Well- no. Not as of yet. But—”

“I want the cadet brought in. Maybe his body structure—”

“With all due respect, Admiral, his physiology appears to be human.”

“Really? All the way through? Even his organs?”

“Well- we don’t know—”

“Bring the cadet in, Iverson.”

Iverson snapped a salute. “Yes, Admiral.”

Xxx

Keith stared uncomprehendingly at the board of their arithmetic professor, who was rattling on about… something or other. He hadn’t understood what was going on in this class for about a month, now.

At a sudden buzz, Professor Montgomery checked his phone. A wide grin spread across his face. “Attention, cadets. The Kerberos mission has successfully landed. Tomorrow, they’ll start collecting ice samples.”

Keith felt a smile tug at the edges of his mouth. Shiro had done it. He’d be setting foot on Pluto’s moon. He was standing at the edges of the universe.

There was a knock on the door, and an officer poked his head in. “Cadet Keith Kogane is wanted in Iverson’s office.”

Professor Montgomery gave a sigh. “You’ll come back later for what you’ve missed?” he asked Keith.

Keith nodded and slipped out of the room. “What’s wrong?”

The officer gave him a peculiar look as they strode through the hallways. “Nothing’s wrong. Why would you think that something was wrong?”

Keith frowned. “I don’t know. I just…” he shook his head. “Nothing.”

The officer left him outside of Iverson’s office, and the Commander came out. “Oh. We’re going to the med labs.”

“Why?”

“Ah- Admiral Sanda wanted to run a few tests. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Is something wrong with me?”

“No! No, it’s just about your genes. We just wanted to run a few scans. As I said, it’s nothing to worry about.”

Keith struggled to keep pace with the tall commander as he pushed through the medical labs. A doctor approached, smiling and holding a clipboard.

“Hey, Keith. I’m Dr. Chris, and I’ll be running a few tests—”

“Where’s Dr. Jenny?!” Keith demanded.

Dr. Chris’s friendly grin grew a little forced. “Dr. Jenny is a medical doctor- she’s who you would go to for medical treatment. I’m a biologist.”

“Like Mrs. Holt?”

That must have also hit a nerve, because Dr. Chris was now looking like he might just whack Keith upside the head with his clipboard. “No,” he grated out, “Coleen Holt specialized in plants and botanical science. I specialize in human anatomy.”

Iverson shrugged. “I’ll be in the observing room,” he said cheerfully, and stalked away.

Dr. Chris turned to Keith. “Alright, we’ll be doing a few X-rays, cat scans- etcetera. We’ll develop the scan results fairly quickly, and then you can be on your way. I’ll need you to change into a hospital gown, and remove any jewelry.” He handed Keith the gown. “I’ll leave while you change. Just tell me when you’re done.”

Keith waited for him to exit the room with the massive X-ray machine and quickly changed, shivering as the warmth of his Garrison uniform was replaced with the cold thinness of the hospital shift. He opened the door, and Dr. Chris came back in.

“Right, I’ll need you to take off that bracelet.”

Keith’s hand went to his panic bracelet. Shiro had given it to him, and he hadn’t taken it off, _ever_. “Take off… my bracelet?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Dr. Chris replied impatiently, holding out his hand.

After a moment of hesitation, Keith unlatched the bracelet and dropped it into Dr. Chris’s hand.

“Great. Okay, lie down on your back on the table. You won’t feel anything.”

Keith hoisted himself up, and squeezed his eyes shut as the X-ray buzzed to life and passed over him once or twice.

“Alright, fantastic, now the cat scan.”

Keith got on the new table, and the machine turned on, and with it, a horrible, high-pitched noise. Keith sat up with a yell and banged his head on the machine. Dr. Chris turned it off.

“What are you _doing_?!”

Keith put a hand to his ears, rubbing them. He felt something wet, and he looked at his fingers. There was blood on them. “It was the noise,” he answered Dr. Chris, “It- my ears are bleeding.”

Dr. Chris came around the side of the machine. “What?”

“The machine was- it hurt my ears.”

Dr. Chris frowned. “That’s weird, it shouldn’t…” He frowned. “I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

He disappeared and returned a minute later with a small silver whistle. He blew on it, and Keith winced at the shrill noise, clapping his hands over his ears. “Ow!”

Dr. Chris put the whistle in his pocket and leaned forward. “Keith, that was a dog whistle. You should’ve only heard a little puff of air. What did you hear?”

“A shrill whistle,” Keith told him irritably, “What was _that_ for?!”

Dr. Chris tapped his chin. “Your hearing is _amazing_ \- inhuman, even! I don’t know how you could hear like that- it doesn’t seem possible!”

 _Thanks a lot, Mom_.

“This is—”

“Doctor!”

Dr. Chris flinched as Iverson came in. “Yes, Sir?”

“What’s the delay?!”

“Ah- well- see- I—”

“My ears started bleeding when he tried to do it,” Keith cut in, “Sorry,” he added as an afterthought.

Iverson turned a frown on Dr. Chris. “You said that the cat scan would be harmless.”

“Well- it is, normally, but sir- come outside.”

They left the room, Dr. Chris talking animatedly to Iverson. Keith put a hand up to his ears, scrubbing away the blood. It would’ve been nice if Dr. Chris had stopped the bleeding, but he was no Dr. Jenny. The bleeding had slowed and stopped on its own, anyway.

From the door, that shrill whistle sounded again, and Keith slammed his fingers into his ears. “Why do you keep _doing_ that?!”

Dr. Chris turned triumphantly to Iverson. “See?!”

“So- what, he has hyper hearing?”

“Well- I mean- maybe it could be hyperacusis, but I don’t think that this is the same kind of symptoms. I think- Keith, what other kinds of high-pitched noises can you hear?”

Keith frowned. “Um- I can hear when someone’s got their computer or TV or phone on.”

“You mean when they have headphones in?”

“No- not like any sounds, like this static-y noise?”

Dr. Chris nodded thoughtfully. “Computers, TVs and Phones send off a frequency- there aren’t a _ton_ of people who can hear it, but some can hear it faintly. They can always tell when a device is on, but it can be masked really easily with other sounds.”

“No,” Keith blurted, “It’s really loud.”

“How loud?”

“Um- not as loud as the whistle or the cat scan thing was, but not super soft either. You know how it is when there’s a hive of bees? Like that.”

Dr. Chris’s eyebrows shot up in shock. “That loud?”

Keith nodded. “You said some people hear it- so maybe it—”

“Not that loud,” Dr. Chris interjected, “Normally if you can hear it at all it’s a really soft sound. Think one bee instead of a whole hive.”

Iverson sighed. “Great. We need that cat scan, Doctor.”

“We can’t do it if it hurts him.”

Iverson muttered something that sounded like “Admiral Sanda would disagree,” but Keith didn’t quite catch it- which meant that Iverson must have barely breathed the words. “Would a pair of earplugs mess up the entire thing?”

Dr. Chris shook his head. “Noooo, I don’t think so.”

“Then get the cadet a pair of earplugs and run the test, you idiot!” Iverson roared, “For someone with three PHD’s, you are utterly incompetent!”

Dr. Chris nodded. “Y-yes, Sir. Right away.”

He ran off, and Iverson let out a deep sigh, going out after him to the viewing area, muttering about why this was why he’d had Coleen Holt figuring out Keith’s genes instead of a scientist who specialized in human genetics.

Dr. Chris returned a minute later with a pair of earplugs that Keith put in, scrunching up his face in anticipation of the noise. It still came, but it was muffled now, and didn’t hurt so much. Or maybe all of the whistles and cat scans had burst his eardrums, and he just didn’t know it.

Dr. Chris gave him a thumbs-up and handed Keith his bracelet back. “Go get changed. We should have the results by the time you get back.”

Keith was glad to get back into his Garrison uniform, but as he looked at the clock, he reflected that he should’ve just gone to his room and changed into his jeans and jacket- the school day was almost over anyway. He started to open the door to the results room, but instead decided to listen in on Iverson and Dr. Chris.

“—don’t know why you wanted these. His bone structure and organ placement are perfectly normal- nothing wrong, other than his lungs and Bronchial wall, but that’s normal for his asthma.”

“Would there be a way with your scans to discover what they’re _made of_?”

“I don’t think so. Not without surgery and probes and whatnot. Why? Why do this cadet’s insides matter so much?”

“I’m sorry. You don’t have clearance for that.”

“Seriously?” When Iverson didn’t answer, Dr. Chris sighed. “Right, fine then.”

“Would a surgery like that be dangerous?”

“I mean, not terribly so, I don’t think, not with the advances we’ve made. Especially since we have these scans. Bone sample is easy and safe to extract, and so would a sample of most of his internal organs- the heart or the brain would be a bit risky, but the rest would probably be fine.”

Keith’s heart leapt to his mouth. What?! Surgery?! DNA tests were one thing. X-rays and cat scans were one thing. But a _surgery_ to extract his bone and organ tissue was a _completely different story_!

“I don’t want it to come to that,” Iverson said gruffly, “This is an important part of he and his flight group’s careers. Most of his group seems promising, and I don’t want to upset that. How long would recovery time after that surgery take, anyway?”

“Um- it depends on how well the surgery went. If for the bone tissue? Matter of days. The organs might take closer to a week or two. Heart and brain? Hard to say. Too many factors. You aren’t seriously considering it, are you?! Maybe for the bone, but everything else-!”

“No,” Iverson said quickly, “I’m not really planning on it. I just want to keep alternative options open in case the Admiral decides… never mind. How long is that kid going to take to get changed, anyway?”

Keith knocked on the door, his heart settling down a little now that Iverson didn't sound like he might actually rip Keith apart to find out what he was made of. “Um—”

Dr. Chris opened the door. “Oh! Uh- the scans are done. We’re going to send the scan of your lungs to Dr. Jenny.”

“Maybe she’ll get off of my back about getting your DNA,” Iverson muttered.

Keith glanced at the scans. Like Dr. Chris had said, they looked perfectly normal. Nothing strange about them.

“Am I dismissed, Sir?”

Iverson gave a sharp nod. “Dismissed.”

Keith left the room, but hovered outside, hoping to hear anything else about the potential surgery. But they didn’t seem to be talking about it- just about a couple of anomalies in his bone structure- so he slipped off.

“Hey, Keith!”

Keith pretended that he didn’t hear Hunk, and turned down another hallway, hoping that his flight group member wouldn’t give chase. He was disappointed.

“Keith, hey, wait!”

Keith stopped with a sigh. “Hi.”

“Hey. Hi. Um- so- Lance and I were going to go to the kitchen, and we were wondering if maybe you wanted to come?”

 ** _You_** _were wondering. **Lance** would be **just fine** with me **not** coming_.

“Nah. I’m busy.” After a second of hesitation, he finished with a “Thanks for the offer.”

Hunk paused. “We’ll be making cookies,” he coaxed.

Keith barely contained his snort. Did Hunk think that he could bribe him to do anything with those cookies? Although, to his irritation, the offer was looking more appealing with the thought of cookies being on the line.

“No, I uh…” Keith searched for an excuse. “I’ve got to go see Professor Montgomery,” he finished finally.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right, you missed some of class today.”

 _Oh, yeah, I really **was** supposed to go see him. Forgot about that_. Keith bobbed his head. “Yeah.”

“That’s okay, I can explain what you missed! It wasn’t much.”

“No! No, that’s okay, Hunk. I’d rather have the professor explain.”

Hunk gave a confused, sad frown. “Oh. Okay. Uh- maybe we can bring you some cookies?”

 _He looks like a rejected puppy_. Keith kept his resolve up. “See you around.”

“Yeah. Okay. See you.”

 _Sorry, Hunk_.

Xxx

Lance glanced up as Hunk entered. “No luck? Told you.”

Hunk sighed. “We’ve been in the same flight group for _four years_! I thought maybe he’d defrosted a little.”

“Guess not. Sorry, Hunk.”

“You don’t sound very sorry.”

Xxx

Shiro held Matt and Sam’s ice sample collector still as Matt extracted the ice. Sam’s voice crackled over the coms.

“Easy, son. This ice is delicate.” He stared at the sample. “Amazing.”

Matt glanced at Shiro as he pulled the ice sample. “Isn’t this exciting, Shiro?”

Shiro gave a small laugh. “You guys get a little more excited about ice samples than I do.”

Sam was looking at the ice with a faraway look in his eyes. “This is history in the making. Not only have we traveled farther than any human ever has, but this ice could hold microscopic clues about the existence of life outside Earth.”

Matt beamed. “Think of it, Dad! We could use those clues to become the first people to meet aliens!”

Sam smiled back at his son. “My life’s work would be complete.”

Shiro grinned to himself. Matt had already met an alien, even if he didn’t know it. He’d met Keith. But that information was confidential. Still, Shiro felt a little bit bad about the fact that Matt was hoping to find alien life out here, when there was already alien life at home, alien life that the Garrison was studying and keeping under wraps.

There was a bit of shaking, and they struggled to stay steady on their feet. Sam frowned. “What is that? Seismic activity?”

Shiro frowned to match Sam. “We should get back to the ship.”

There was a rumbling, and then some kind of- Shiro didn’t even know _what_ it was. It was huge, and glowing purple.

Sam gaped. “What?! What is that?! It can’t be…”

Shiro’s eyes widened. Keith’s genetics. His instinct had been right. The aliens were _not_ friendly. “Run! Come on, run!”

All of them bolted, Matt’s ice shattering on the ground. Shiro heard high-pitched screams, and then a purple light hit them, drawing them up towards the purple metal thing.

And then everything went black.


	3. Won't Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, on today's TED talk, we'll be talking about the stages of grief.

Keith stared blankly at a news feed. Kerberos mission crashed. Pilot error. No. No, that wasn’t possible. It couldn’t happen. Shiro was too good to crash!

But the undeniable truth stared at him from the screen. Takashi Shirogane. Matthew Holt. Samuel Holt. All presumed dead.

Keith heard the breakfast bell go off, but he ignored it, instead clicking on all of the links, reading anything and everything about the crash. It had been pilot error. He’d landed wrong, and the whole thing had fallen.

 _Shiro wouldn’t. Shiro is careful, sometimes over-careful_.

But every single article read the same: Takashi Shirogane had made a mistake, and the whole crew had paid for it with their lives

A couple more bells went off, but time was fluid, passing by in an instant as Keith wrapped a blanket around himself, leaning against the wall, the stupid news headline blaring up at him that Shiro was dead, dead, _dead_. He buried his head in his arms, shoulders shaking. He should have known better than to rely on anyone.

Katie. Katie had lost a brother and father. He should text her. See how she was doing. But he didn’t move from his spot, and the newsfeed stayed on. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not even Katie.

Xxx

Griffin grumbled to himself as he opened the door to Keith’s room. Why did the instructors think that they were _friends_? Why, out of their whole flight group, did they have to choose _him_ to go get Keith?

“Keith? Are you in here?” Griffin glanced around the room. It didn’t look like he was- no, wait, there he was, curled up in a corner, a blanket pulled over his head so that only his face was showing. “What are you doing?”

“Go away.”

“Look, I don’t want to be here either, but I’m supposed to be getting you to class.” A slight buzzing was in Griffin’s ears, and he looked around to see Keith’s computer on, news about the Kerberos mission flashing across the screen. Griffin crossed the room and turned it off. “Sorry. About…”

“He’s not dead. He didn’t crash. Shiro would _never_ crash!”

Griffin hesitated. “Well. Maybe not. Things happen. Earthquakes. Or- I suppose they’d be Kerberos-quakes, wouldn’t they? But that makes it look like the Garrison’s bad. Like they sent them up to an unsafe environment. So… they say Shiro crashed. But one thing is for certain, Keith, they… they’re not coming back.”

It’s been so long since Keith attacked him, Griffin forgot how fast he could move when he wanted to. He didn’t even realize that Keith was off of the ground until his fist was slamming into Griffin’s jaw, and then he’s falling in a whirl of stars dancing in front of his eyes.

“SHUT UP!”

Griffin barely had time to think _well, he moved on from denial to anger awfully quickly_ before Keith grabbed him by his collar and forcibly shoved him out of the room, his eyes doing that creepy, animal thing that they did.

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Keith managed to somehow make the automatic door slam, leaving Griffin blinking outside.

“I guess this means that he’s not coming to class.”

Xxx

Coleen Holt decided not to make Katie go to school. She was holed up in her room, pretending to be asleep, but Coleen could tell that she was faking.

Coleen shakily climbed the stairs to the room that she and Sam had shared. Sam. Coleen sat down with a _thump_ on the bed. He wouldn’t ever be in this room again. He wouldn’t dance with her to old music that made Katie and Matt laugh at them. Oh, stars. Matt. Her boy. Her baby boy, who had always loved science and reading and had grown so fast, growing big enough to carry her around in what seemed like the blink of an eye.

Coleen felt tears form in her eyes, and she let them fall, holding a pillow to her chest and sobbing quietly into it. She wouldn’t see either of them ever again. Not her husband, the man who had passionately argued over modulating back in their Garrison days and stolen her heart, not their son, their sweet son who had always been so nerdy, and so helpful, Katie’s best- and pretty much only- friend.

The door opened quietly, and Katie, still in her pajamas, shuffled in, her eyes red. She wordlessly came over and sat in Coleen’s lap, curling up into her the way she had when she was tiny. Coleen hugged her daughter to her chest, rocking back and forth, tears still splattering from her eyes.

“Keith’s not answering me,” Katie said dully.

Keith. That was right. Coleen felt a sudden pit of sadness yawn into existence in her stomach. She still had Katie. Shiro had been the only family that Keith had.

“We- we’ll visit him,” Coleen promised “And, uh…” Coleen wiped at her eyes. “Yeah.”

Katie buried her face in Coleen’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss them,” she choked, tears making Coleen’s shirt grow wet.

“I know,” Coleen replied quietly, rubbing her back, “I know, Katie.”

“And- I just keep thinking…”

“What if I’d managed to get the mission delayed?” Coleen whispered, “What if, even if it _was_ a pilot error, I’d managed to convince them to stay longer because of the possibility of aliens?”

“What if I convinced the Garrison that the symbol on Keith’s knife meant that they were dangerous?” Katie suggested hoarsely, “What if I made it seem like they were close to Earth?”

Coleen closed her eyes, tears still leaking from the corners. _What if_?

Xxx

Iverson was pacing his office, staring at the last bits of feed from the Kerberos mission. “That wasn’t a pilot error.”

Sanda nodded. “No. It wasn’t.”

“There was, what, seismic activity? A quake?”

“All of our predictions and feeds show that there shouldn’t have been something like that. It was completely safe.”

Iverson played the video back. “It goes black, towards the end, but that purple light- what do you think that was?”

Sanda gave him a shrug. “Can’t tell. We’re working on it.”

“What if- wait a minute.” Iverson went searching through files until he found what he wanted. “Here it is.”

“What?”

“The file on Cadet Keith Kogane and his… interesting… genes. I think—” Iverson pulled up the pictures of Keith’s knife. “Yeah. Okay. Look here.” He pointed to the glowing glyph and then at the purple light. “Do you think…”

“Aliens?”

“I don’t know. Could be that they were hostile. Could be that this was an accident. Either way, that’s three good men and an entire wasted space mission, probably because of them.”

Sanda leaned back. “This is why we need to learn how to defend ourselves from these creatures, Commander.”

“With all due respect, Admiral, his organ and bone structure are in the normal positioning of a human. There is nothing to suggest—”

“Commander, the question now is what they’re made—”

“There are tests,” Iverson blurted, “Less… drastic… options than what you had in mind. Other possibilities, but with the same results. Surgeries that won’t endanger him.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I discussed with one of the doctors—”

“I told you to directly report to me regarding Cadet Kogane’s… origins.”

“I apologize. It was only speculation. But if we could try this instead…”

“Why do you care about the fate of this cadet so much?”

Iverson gave a short nod. “His scores in the simulators rival professional pilots. He has some discipline issues that need to be worked out, problems with working in a team, but… Takashi Shirogane saw potential in him. A _lot_ of potential. And he has an eye for talent.”

“He _had_ an eye for talent. Takashi Shirogane is dead, Commander,” Sanda said coldly, “You’d do well to remember that.”

Xxx

Keith scrolled through more feeds, more and more about how Shiro had crashed, how he should have never been the pilot, how the Garrison never should have entrusted such an important mission to someone so young. An ad started playing, startling him, and he lunged backward at the sudden loud sound. Why was the volume so _high_?!

“Shut _up_ ,” he yelled, throwing his shoe at the computer. By some miracle, it landed on the mute button, and the ad stopped yelling at him. Keith retrieved his shoe, powering the computer down.

There was a knock on the door, and Keith glared at it.

“Go _away_ , Griffin! I don’t _care_ if I’m dragging down the flight group! Just leave me _alone_!”

The door opened, and Katie edged in. “Um.” She sniffed. “Hi.”

Keith froze, in an attempt to cram his shoe back on, his foot shoved halfway through his shoe. “Uh…”

Another sniff. “Mom and I just wanted to… to drop by. To see how… how you were doing.”

Keith blinked, hard. “Um. Yeah.” His ability to speak in anything other than monosyllabic words seemed to have deserted him. He wiped at a moisture in his eyes. “Yeah. Okay. Um. Thanks. Um. Are you- are _you_ doing okay?

Katie’s eyes filled with tears. “He- he was my best friend. And—” the tears spilled over. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without him!”

Suddenly she was crying, and Keith wasn’t sure he should’ve asked the question because what was he supposed to _do_?! She sniffed, wiping at her eyes.

“I- I’m sorry, Keith, I didn’t mean to make this about me. I came to check on _you_.”

Keith shrank into the bigness of his jacket, letting it hide him from view. “I’m okay.”

“I know you and Shiro- you two were really close.”

 _Understatement of the year. He was literally the closest thing to family that I had_.

Keith swiped at his eyes which were starting to mist over, and his bottom lip was wobbling. He bit down on it. “Yeah.”

Katie looked up at him with big amber eyes. “It’s okay to cry,” she said quietly, “It’s good for you. It’s okay.”

Keith swallowed down the lump in his throat. “No. No, it’s not. I c-can’t.”

“Sure, you can. We all need to cry sometimes.” She held out a hand. “Come on. It’s okay.”

“NO!” Keith gulped, fighting back the tears that now pressed at his eyes, threatening to burst free, “It’s not okay! It’s- I don’t cry!”

She blinked at him with those placid, understanding eyes. “Yes, you do. Everyone does.”

“Stop it! Stop making me feel like this! Stop- Stop—”

“Keith, it’s okay to cry.”

“No! Crying means- crying means that I’m weak and- and annoying and sniveling and pathetic, and I- I’m not going to cry! I said I wouldn’t cry!”

“You said you wouldn’t cry?”

Keith glared at her, his eyes red. “I told myself I would _never_ cry! Stop making me- stop making me want to- to—”

“It’s not me that’s making you. It’s because you know that you want to.”

“Stop it! If I cry it- it means that Shiro isn’t coming back! If I stay strong, if I don’t cry, then- then—”

“Oh, Keith.”

“Stop looking at me like that- _stop it_!”

“Keith, Shiro—”

“No, Katie, don’t say it, don’t you  _dare_ say it!”

“Refusing to cry won’t bring Shiro back, Keith.”

Keith shook his head, staring at the ground, biting back tears. He felt a small hand on his.

“Refusing to cry won’t bring Shiro back. But letting the tears come will make you feel better.”

Keith felt his throat close off. “Get out.”

“Keith, I’m only trying to—”

“I _said_ , get _out_!” Keith’s hands curled into fists. “Go! Leave!”

Katie shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry,” Keith.

Keith’s breath hitched in a way that had nothing to do with asthma. “Go on! Get out!”

Katie shook her head and left. Keith closed the door behind her, curling in a corner by himself, hugging his knees to his chest.

 _Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry_.

 _I said I wouldn’t cry_.

 _No one wants you if you cry_.

 _Pretend like nothing’s wrong_.

 ** _I said I wouldn’t cry_**!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see, denial, check, anger, check, bargaining, check.


	4. Champion

Shiro paced back and forth in the tiny cell that he and Matt shared. Sam had been taken away- for slave labor, Shiro had been told. His watch beeped a warning at him, a warning that he ignored.

“Shiro?”

Shiro stopped pacing to look Matt in the eye. “Yeah?”

“What do you think that they’ll do to us?”

“I- I don’t know.” At that moment, Shiro realized how much that scared him. Not knowing. Even in unpredictable weather, there was still more certainty, more idea of what to do, then there was for this. They’d never trained for this situation. They didn’t know anything about this.

Well. _He_ at least knew something about it.

Shiro heard Matt’s breathing speed up. He had to get him distracted before he hyperventilated. “Tell me about your dog,” he blurted. Something. Anything to keep Matt’s mind off of their situation.

“Bae-Bae?”

“Yeah, Bae-Bae. Tell me about her. Big dog? Small dog?”

Matt curled his knees to his chest. “Medium, I guess.”

“Short hair or long hair?”

“Short. Kind of a tan-ish color?”

“Yeah? What kind of dog is she?”

“He. Bae-Bae is a he. He’s—” Matt frowned. “I- I’m not really sure _what_ breed he is. We found him outside, when he was a puppy. He was hungry, and we took him in.” Matt’s nose crinkled. “Kind of like you and Keith.”

“Ha, ha, hilarious. You’re such a comedian.”

“Mmm. Should’ve gone into stand-up comedy instead of…” Matt trailed off, looking at the walls around him.”

“Is he radio tagged?” Shiro asked quickly, “Bae-Bae, I mean. Not Keith. Is he radio tagged, or did you guys get him a collar?”

“Both. Radio tagged so that people could get him back to us and a collar to make him part of the family. To give him something that belonged to him, that he could keep to remind him to come home if he ran off.”

“Yeah? What did you put on the collar?”

“His name. Our address was on the back, but we knew if anyone wanted to actually know who he belonged to, they’d just scan him.”

“What font?”

“ _What_?!”

“You heard me. What font was the lettering in?”

“ _Stars_ , I don’t know, Shiro!”

“Come on, tell me what the font was!”

“ _Why_?! It’s not important what the font was!”

“Yes it is,” Shiro insisted, “It is the most important fact of the universe right now, in this time, because _I_ asked you.”

Matt snorted. “Woooow. Think highly of yourself?”

“I outrank you,” Shiro said simply, “You have to answer my questions completely and honestly.”

“ _Well_ , then, I _completely_ and _honestly_ don’t _remember_!”

Shiro shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to have you court-marshalled.”

“ _What_?! What for?!”

“For withholding information from a ranking officer.”

“You are the _worst_!”

“Would you two quiet down?” a miserable voice called from somewhere to the left of their cell, “I’m trying to get some sleep before I die.”

Matt and Shiro glanced at each other, and Shiro moved to the door. “Um- hello?”

“Hello.”

“Who are you?”

There was a cough, and then, “Whir.”

“I’m Shiro. And- Matt’s with me.”

“I’d say that it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I won’t lie and say anything about this place is pleasant.”

“Where are we? What is this place?”

There was a harsh laugh. “Welcome to the Galra Empire. The Galra are conquerors, destroyers, and overlords. They take what they want and destroy what they don’t. To them, the universe is their personal orchard, and any bugs on their fruit that will attempt to stop them should promptly be squashed.”

“And- and us?”

“Ah, yes. Well, we appear to be interesting bugs, at the very least. At least in the way that it’s interesting to watch bugs tear each other to shreds.”

Shiro and Matt gulped in unison. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the weak go to slave labor. The strong come to the arena. The only thing that the Galra like more than killing is watching us kill each other. Tomorrow, I’m going against the beast, the champion- Myzak. I don’t expect to come back.”

Shiro stayed quiet, thinking about Keith.

Matt waved a hand in front of Shiro’s face. “Shiro? You look zoned? You okay? Or has the small space finally gotten to you?”

“I think…” Shiro said slowly, “I think that my friend is a Galra.”

Whir gave another harsh laugh. “The Galra don’t have _friends_. They don’t even have _allies_. The Galra only have enemies and slaves. I don’t know how you think you met a Galra on your planet, let alone made _friends_ with one, but any friendship you thought you had? It was a lie. Your so-called ‘friend’ was a spy.”

Shiro’s heart plummeted to the ground. No. Keith wouldn’t. He _wasn’t_. “He’d only be half,” he protested to Whir, “He wouldn’t even be a full Galra!”

“Oh, a half-breed. Even more dangerous. If he ever finds out who his people are, he’ll do anything to please them and be one of _them_ instead of one of the conquered. He’ll be a traitor, and he’d see you go down rather than himself. They’re all like that. The pure-bred Galra and half-breeds alike.”

“You’re wrong! He’s not like that!”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be right. Just you wait and see.”

Matt was watching him with a quiet curiosity. “Shiro? Who do we know who’s an alien?”

Shiro hesitated, and then spilled everything about Keith. At this point, keeping it secret wouldn’t do anything. It was arbitrary.

Matt stared at him in shock. “So… this whole time… while I’ve been going on about aliens… and how when we went to Kerberos, we might find aliens… The Garrison has had an alien and _known_ about it for the last… what, four years?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Matt, but I was under orders not to tell you anything.”

Matt glanced around the prison cell. “Well, I’m glad that my first alien encounter wasn’t _this_ , at least.”

Shiro gave a small laugh.

“I’m glad I’m going to die tomorrow,” Whir said wistfully.

Shiro’s laugh died abruptly. “What?!”

Whir gave a sigh. “I’m glad that I’m going to die before I have to see two more people lose hope. I’ve been here for twenty years, making my way by keeping my head down and not doing anything drastic. Most don’t survive that long. And if you make it past the first couple of years? There is no more laughing. There is no more hope. It’s just you and the gladiator pit, hoping that you survive to the next battle.”

“That’s no way to live.”

“No, but it’s a way to not die.” Whir sighed again. “Doesn’t matter. I certainly won’t be alive by this time tomorrow.”

Shiro shook his head. “We’re not going to be like that. _I’m_ not going to be like that.”

“They all think that in the beginning. They all have grand ideas of escape, of starting over, or of leading a revolution. You’ll find that it’s not so easy to stay hopeful as you might think.”

“I’m not giving up. You watch.”

“Yeah, okay, kid.”

There was a clang, and a robot entered the cell block, making its way to the cell next to Shiro and Matt. “Prisoner two-four-six-oh-one,” it said in its mechanical, emotionless voice, “It is time for you to go to the arena.”

Whir sighed and exited the cell. He was big, covered in tentacles, with only one eye in the center of his forehead. “Try to keep that attitude up,” he said to Shiro’s cell, “But don’t rely on it.”

He disappeared down the hallway, and Shiro let out a shaky breath. He could hear the mixed cheering and booing of crowds, Whir shouting defiantly, then in pain, and then he heard… Shiro’s blood chilled. He could hear some _beast_ roaring, something big. Something brutal.

There was one last, defiant shout from Whir, then nothing. And then the sickening, sickening sound of a cheering crowd. A bloodthirsty crowd. The cheering of a crowd of even bigger monsters than whatever Whir had faced.

“Shiro?”

Shiro looked back at Matt. “Yeah?”

“Is that…” Matt trailed off, his eyes wide. “Is that going to happen to us?”

“No,” Shiro said firmly, wishing he could feel as confident as he sounded. “No, I won’t let that happen to us. We’re going to be okay.”

The cell door opened, and the robot pointed to Shiro and Matt. It only said one word. “Come.”

Shiro and Matt followed the robot, and several other organic creatures in the same uniform as they were. The cheering of the bloodthirsty crowds and the roaring of the creature got louder and louder, and Shiro realized with a start that they were headed right towards the arena. The doors opened, and Shiro could see a huge, ogre-like creature bearing some kind of metal club with a purple energy ball on the end. The robot pointed some kind of weapon at Matt.

Matt gulped, staring at his hands. “I- I’m not going to make it. I’ll never see my family again!”

“You can do this,” Shiro assured him. _But he shouldn’t have to. He has a family. A dog named Bae-Bae_. Shiro ran towards the guard and seized the weapon, turning towards Matt, the light of murder in his eyes.

“I want _blood,_ ” he screeched, jumping on Matt and taking the strange weapon in a line down Matt’s leg. _They don’t send the weak to the gladiator_ ring. “Take care of your father,” he whispered. The fear in Matt’s eyes turned to gratitude, and then Shiro was being dragged away, to be thrown into the gladiator ring with that- that creature.

Shiro gulped. _I’m sorry, Keith. I guess I won’t be able to come back for you_. He shook himself, chasing the thought away. _No. I **have** to win this. I told him I’d be there for him. And I’m not breaking that promise_.

The smell of charred flesh hit Shiro’s nostrils, and he saw what had been Whir lying on the ground, some of his tentacles ripped off, his one eye staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Shiro closed the eye, pouring sand from the floor on top of it to keep it closed until the muscles relaxed and it would stay shut on its own.

There was a _whirring_ noise behind him, and he dove to the side as the giant purple energy ball whizzed over his head. The heat of it turned some of the sand into glass instantaneously, and Shiro felt it singe the hairs of his arm as it zoomed back to the metal club.

 _I’ve got to end this quick_.

Shiro ducked behind a pillar as the ogre- Myzak, he remembered- threw the ball again, watching the ball go by. Myzak destroyed the pillar on the next blow, and the ball zoomed back to its place on the club. But this time, he didn’t throw it. This time, it stayed for a moment, whirring and getting bigger.

 _What is he… time to move_!

Shiro ducked behind another pillar as the ball was thrown again. That ball thing had to recharge after three throws. That was his opening. But, if the ball hit him, he was toast.

There was a _crash_ as the ball slammed into the pillar, and Shiro quickly moved to the side to avoid the debris. But he wasn’t quick enough. Part of the pillar fell and knocked him off of his feet, leaving him dazed on the ground, blinking back stars.

 _Where am I_?

The cheering and chants of the crowd to kill him brought him back to reality. A reality where Myzak was throwing the ball at him for the final kill.

As if in slow motion, Shiro brought up his sword to block it. The energy hit the edge of the blade, and Shiro screamed, dropping to his knees, and energy coursed through him, dancing like lightning down every nerve and synapse of his body. Dimly, he could hear the crowd chanting, and he heard the ball zooming back to the staff to begin charging.

 _Now. You won’t get another chance_.

Shiro forced his jolting muscles into action, sprinting towards Myzak. “FOR WHIR!”

He vaulted up, using a piece of debris as a springboard to launch himself towards Myzak, adrenaline flowing through him and making that energy surge feel like it had passed long ago. He screamed, bringing the sword down.

He sliced through three of Myzak’s fingers, making the ogre roar and drop his weapon. Shiro landed on the ground, and dropped down to his knees, the adrenaline surge fading as the danger passed, and Myzak screamed and roared behind him.

“Hah… hah…” Shiro panted, wiping Myzak’s blood from his face. The crowd had turned, going from cheering for Myzak to booing him.

“Booo! Weakling!”

“Victory or death!”

“New champion!” someone cheered.

“Cham-pi-on! Cham-pi-on!” the crowds chanted.

“Kill Myzak!” someone roared.

“Slice his head off!”

“Stab him in the heart!”

“Cut his throat!”

“Kill! Kill! Kill!”

Shiro dropped the weapon in the sand, his fingers numb. He shot the crowd a disgusted glare, but they didn’t stop cheering and calling for Myzak’s death. But their voices kept fading in and out of his mind, and all of the purple lights were flickering in front of him.

Shiro’s eyes rolled up into his head, and he collapsed. Somewhere, dimly, he could hear the robot’s mechanical voice.

“Shall I dispose of them both, High Priestess?”

A cold, hissing voice answered the bot. “No. I want them both.”

“What shall I do with them, then?”

_Keep your head down._

_Survive._

_Is this what Whir meant? Did I get too much attention?_

_But I had to protect Matt. And I couldn’t just **die**_!

“Throw the beast back into his cell. But this other one, this… _Champion_ … I want him prepped for another fight as soon as he’s awake.”

“High Priestess?”

“He’s beaten our top gladiator. Until now, that was thought to be impossible.”

“And that means…”

“It means the people of his planet might be a force to be reckoned with, or at the very least, incredibly annoying to conquer. I want to see what happens next with him. I want to see how far he’ll go.” Shiro’s eyes opened slightly, and glowing yellow ones stared into them. “Yessss… a new Champion… what a fitting name…”

Shiro’s eyes dropped closed again. _Maybe this will be bad for me. Maybe I’ve gotten myself into a deeper pit._

 _But I’d do it again in a heartbeat_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy now that you've had your bloodsport, you violent heathens?


	5. Unread Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter names:" Depression," or, "Miss You"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's exhausted?

Keith ran around the gym, wiping a sheen of sweat from his forehead. His stomach growled hungrily, and he started thinking about burgers. And fries. Okay. Maybe he should eat something after class. But for the last week or two until now, he just… hadn’t felt hungry. He was just… he stifled a yawn. He was just tired, no matter how much sleep he’d gotten.

He wobbled on his feet and nearly stumbled over, but he managed to steady himself. What was going _on_? He _never_ felt like this, not without the tightness in his chest that warned of an asthma attack.

Keith blinked back a wave of dizziness. Was he getting sick?

Xxx

Griffin slogged through another lap around the gym, for the first time wishing that he was on the treadmill instead. Running was all very well and good, but when you had to run _in line_ with the rest of your flight group? Not so much. _Especially_ when you were in a flight group with Hunk Garret, who was easily one of the slowest people in the entire Garrison.

“Hey, Kogane, we’re supposed to run as a _group_ ,” Griffin called up. Keith was _way_ ahead of the rest of them, “Do you want to have to run another lap?”

Keith ignored him, which was perfectly normal. Then he wobbled, staggered to the side, and fell. Not normal. Griffin raised an eyebrow as he passed. “Trip over your own feet, there?”

Keith didn’t respond, and Griffin stopped, Lance behind him barely able to stop and not run into him. “Kogane? Coach!”

Their gym instructor was already jogging over, turning Keith over. “Passed out.” He looked at the cadets. “Don’t stop running! After you’re done with this, lap, take another!”

There was a collective groan.

Xxx

Keith felt something pat his face, and he blinked his eyes open, looking right up at their coach’s face. He could’ve thought of a thousand better sights to wake up to see.

“You okay, Cadet?”

“Y-yeah,” Keith managed, wobbling to his feet. “I’m okay. Just… got a little dizzy.”

“Nurse’s office, Kogane.”

“What? No, I’m fine, I just—”

“You passed out. Nurse’s office. Now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Keith left the gym, still a little unsteady, his head still spinning a bit. The school nurse raised an eyebrow. “Back again? Do you need another refill on your medication?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“What happened?”

“Passed out in gym.” Keith crossed his arms. “I’m _fine_.”

“ _I’ll_ be the judge of that.” The nurse squinted at him. “I’m going to weigh you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because your uniform looks a lot baggier on you than it did a month ago. Get on the scale.”

Keith sighed and took off his shoes, standing barefoot on the cold metal of the scale. The nurse peered at the scale. “Have you been eating all of your meals?”

 _No_. “Yes.”

“You’re underweight.”

Keith shrugged. “I have a fast metabolism.”

“Not _this_ fast. A healthy kid of your height shouldn’t weigh only ninety-five pounds. You’re probably hungry, and that’s why you passed out. Are you sure that you’re eating all of your meals?”

“Positive.”

The nurse scrutinized him, and then sighed, scribbling on a piece of paper. “You can go back to class. But don’t do any more exercise.” She handed him the piece of paper. “I’ve written you an excuse note.”

“Thank you.”

As he walked away, Keith heard the click and _whoosh_ of an email being sent, and he winced. Looked like he couldn't get away with it.

Xxx

Iverson glanced at his inbox as a new message pinged in from the cadets’ nurse. He clicked on it. Surprise, surprise, Cadet Kogane had to go to the nurse’s office. Iverson scanned the email quickly. He’d… passed out? The nurse figured that he wasn’t eating right, and asked him to send her the cafeteria records.

Iverson did, taking a glance at them himself. Cadet Kogane’s name was… spotty over the last two weeks, only appearing once or twice for meals.

 _Well, **that’s** not normal_.

Xxx

Keith winced as a call came for him from the nurse. He hadn’t even gotten through two classes. He braced himself as he went to her office, wondering how much she knew, and expecting a lecture, whatever the case was.

“So. Eating properly, are we?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And that’s why you’ve only been recorded by the cafeteria…” the nurse consulted her computer. “Four times in the past two weeks?”

“I haven’t been hungry.”

“Keith, do you know how long the average human being can go without food?”

 _I’m not average. Average human beings don’t hear dog whistles_. “No, Ma’am.”

“Three weeks. And you’ve been starving yourself for two. It’s a wonder you didn’t pass out sooner, if I’m being honest.”

“I haven’t been hungry,” Keith repeated.

The nurse frowned. “Are you feeling sick?”

“No. I just… don’t feel like eating.”

The frown deepened. “Anything else.”

Keith rubbed at his eyes. “I just feel tired. A lot.”

“Well, that might be because you’re not eating… I’d say you’re tired because of an oncoming growth spurt, but then you’d probably be hungrier, not less hungry… or maybe…” she tapped her fingers on her computer keys. “How much time has passed since the Kerberos crash?”

Keith’s chest tightened. “Two weeks,” he immediately supplied. Two weeks. Two stupid, horrible weeks. Fourteen days of waking up and remembering that Shiro’s body was floating in deep space somewhere, and Keith wouldn’t see him again. Fourteen days to think about what he’d lost, and how he was alone again, except _maybe_ for Katie, if she wanted to see him after how he’d yelled at her.

The nurse nodded thoughtfully. “I’m setting you up for an after-school appointment with the counselor.”

“I don’t need a counselor!”

“There’s nothing wrong with going to the counsellor. Other students do it.”

“But I don’t _need_ one!”

“Well, you’re going anyway, or I’ll have you frozen from the simulators.”

“WHAT?!”

“And I’m going to ask the kitchen to be on the lookout for you. If they don’t see you coming through the lunch line three times a day, then they’ll be contacting me. And if I don’t come after you myself, I’ll make a public announcement to get you to the cafeteria.”

“ _WHAT_?!”

“You heard me. Now, get along to your class. Your appointment will be at 16:00 hours. Don’t skip it.”

“Let me guess, you’ll make an announcement over the P.A.?”

“Smart boy. Go.”

Keith stormed his way out of the office and back to his class. He didn’t _need_ some kind of therapist. He was _fine_. There wasn’t anything _wrong_ with him.

Once his classes were over, he made his way back to his room, glancing at the clock. 15:30. He still had half an hour. He set all of his homework down on the desk, looking at the pile accumulated over the week. Then he pushed all of it into a recycling bin, to be put in the official Garrison bin later.

 _Shiro would be so disappointed_.

Keith shook the thought away, the same way he had been shaking away thoughts about Shiro since the Kerberos mission had crashed. It was easier that way. If he started to think about it-

Tears pushed at the corners of Keith’s eyes, and he blinked them back, turning on his computer to distract himself. Fourteen unread messages from Katie, accumulated in his inbox since he’d sent her away. He dismissed the notifications, instead switching to his feed.

TAKASHI SHIROGANE: SCREW-UP, OR COVER UP?

Keith swallowed back a scream. They couldn’t even wait a _month_ before they started this?! What had happened to resting in peace?! Keith exited the feed, typing in a letter on his search bar at random. The first option for “m” was Morse code.

 _Well, **that’s** incredibly outdated. They haven’t used that since before World War Three, even_. Keith clicked on it anyway, staring at the letters and the dots and dashes. It wouldn’t hurt to memorize Morse code, would it? He wasn’t doing anything anyway.

A: One dot, one dash. That was easy. He tapped on his desk, one finger tapping for the dot, his whole fist knocking for the dashes. Tap, knock. A. Tap, knock. A. Tap, knock.

He’d gotten through H—four taps—when he looked at the clock. Five minutes. He could skip. He could just stay here, memorizing Morse code. Which was completely arbitrary, and a useless code today, but still more useful than a visit to the _counsellor_ would be.

The thought of another condemning P.A. for everyone to hear convinced him to get out of his chair and move to the counsellor’s office, which was just by Iverson’s office- a place he’d visited far too many times for his liking.

He knocked on the door. _No going back_.

“Come in!”

Keith winced at the pep in her voice, and opened the door. “Um. Hi.”

“Keith Kogane?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on in and sit down. Don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

Keith eyed her, sitting delicately on a comfortable armchair. Well. It was nicer than Iverson’s office, at least.

“Right, so, you’re aware that the school nurse set up this appointment?”

“Yeah.”

“She said that you were having appetite problems, and tiredness.”

“I guess so.”

“Do you have any idea why that could be?”

“No.”

“I was told that you were close with the pilot of the Kerberos mission?”

Keith crossed his arms, looking out the window. “Yeah.” At least she hadn’t said his name.

“He was a good and brave officer. I’m sorry for your loss.”

_I’m sorry for your loss._

_My condolences._

_A brave man._

_A good firefighter_.

 _A hero_.

Keith gulped back tears. “Thanks.”

“What you’re feeling, Keith- you’re not alone.” Keith’s jaw clenched, and it must have been noticeable, because she quickly moved to assure him. “That’s not to say that your pain is any less. But you’re not alone in it. Others know what you’re going through. You don’t have to suffer by yourself.”

“I’m not suffering,” he muttered thickly, “I’m okay.”

“Do you know what the five stages of grief are?”

Yeah. Yeah, he knew. Had been told, been lectured about it when his dad had- they’d told him about it, told him that it was going to be okay. But it _wasn’t_ okay. It _hadn’t_ been okay. Nothing had been okay after that until he’d met Shiro. And now things weren’t going to be okay _again,_ everything would be messed up, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice- it wasn’t going to get okay, because he wasn’t going to let anyone else in, only for them to die or leave him. He wasn’t going to feel the pain again, even if it meant relieving some of the pain temporarily. He looked up and realized that she was waiting for an answer, so he gave her a nod.

She started to list off the stages anyway. “Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.”

“I know.”

“Sometimes, when we get depressed, we don’t feel hungry anymore. Or we feel hungry all of the time. We’re more tired.”

 _We. Trying to make me seem like you. Trying to make me relatable_.

“Okay.”

“Loss is hard.”

 _“Loss.” Like Shiro had just gotten lost. Like he’d be back soon. Like they’d find him_.

The counsellor looked him in the eye. “But even if it hurts now, we _can_ learn to accept it. Right now, you’re feeling grief. And that’s normal.”

 _Wait for it_...

“But the pain will go away eventually.”

 _There it is. Where’s point two_?

“People can help you, if you’ll let them.” _Ah, yep, there we go._ “Like I said, you don’t have to go through this alone. Friends can help you get through this.”

 _Sure, if I **had** any friends, that’d be swell_. The image of fourteen unread messages in his inbox flashed into his mind, but he pushed it away. _She’s grieving. She’ll want space. **I** want space_.

“If you want to talk about anything, get anything off of your chest… I’m right here, okay, Keith? I won’t judge, and I won’t tell anyone.”

“Okay.”

“I understand what you’re going through, Keith. But remember, you still need to take care of yourself. Eat right. Sleep right. Do your schoolwork.”

 _Ha, I wouldn’t do my schoolwork if I **weren’t** in the depression stage, but thanks_.

“Okay.”

She smiled. “I’m glad we could talk, Keith.”

 _You did most of the talking_.

“Will you be seeing me again?”

“Maybe.” Keith got up and left. What a waste of time. He made his way back to his room, snorting to himself. Yeah. Great. He could’ve gotten better instruction watching a Youtube therapist.

He booted his computer back up, dismissing his notifications again and tapping through the Morse code after a quick check to make sure he still remembered the ones he’d already learned. After a while, his attention wandered to the window, his fingers still absentmindedly tapping out letters and words.

 _Knock, knock, pause, tap, tap, pause, tap, tap, tap, pause, tap, tap, tap, stop_. _Knock, tap, knock, knock, pause, knock, knock, knock, pause, tap, tap, knock_. Stop. Wait. Watch a desert hawk swoop down on something on the sand while continuing the pattern without noticing what he was doing.

Repeat.

M. I. S. S… Y. O. U.

 _Miss you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stages of grief are rough.


	6. Bright Scarlet

Shiro let out a deep breath as the arena doors opened. No. He couldn’t be Shiro in the arena. In the arena, he was either Champion, or he was dead.

Champion released another breath, hands on his weapon. Shiro wouldn’t want to see this anyway. He wouldn’t want to see what had happened to him over the last eight months, at least that had been the time by his count.

 _Whir._ The name that had come from ages ago, a foggy memory, pushed itself to the forefront of his mind.  _He knew this would happen. He warned me- warned Shiro_.

Champion still remembered that first fight. The roar of the crowd. The whir of the purple ball of energy. The adrenaline. He frowned. He’d been fighting for something, someone. He’d been fighting to save another human- Matt.

But Matt had gone, and it was just him now. Why was he fighting now? Just to survive? No. Shiro wouldn’t have killed others just to survive, never would have become Champion. Why had he become Champion? What was he doing in the arena?

Surviving for someone. Who was he surviving for? A fiancé? No. Not a fiancé. Not a mate. His parents had died- and he’d had no siblings. Who, then? Who was he so desperate to outlast the arena for?

 _Keith_.

That’s right. The angry, red-jacketed kid who had stolen his car. The one who had gotten into fights at the Garrison. The one who he’d run into a sandstorm to protect. The one who had no one except him- and would be alone, on Earth, no one to be there for him.

Champion felt a small warm glow in his chest at the thought of that ball of rage who wanted nothing more than to fly. Alright. He and Shiro could agree on that. They could both survive for Keith.

The warm glow was quickly extinguished as he stepped into the arena. He was letting Shiro creep in, and that couldn’t happen. He couldn’t let Shiro come in, because if he did… they could lose _everything_. And Champion wasn’t about to let that happen. Not after he’d worked so hard to survive and become the crowd favorite, a useful tool that they wouldn’t get rid of. Not as long as he could fight.

The arena door on the other side opened, and the robot pointed the weapon at Champion’s unfortunate opponent, who took the weapon.

“Prisoner 3491, three arena battles won!”

Champion’s eyes narrowed. Three. Surviving that long was difficult, and normally after the first two, he was sent in.

“His opponent! Prisoner 1179875! But you know him better as the Champion!”

There was a roar, as well as suggestions on how to kill prisoner 3491.

“Weapons ready! Fight!”

3491 was young. Much younger than his normal opponents. He had a shock of white hair falling into his face, and pointy teeth set in a green face. Champion raced towards him, his weapon at the ready. 3491 didn’t move, and Champion blinked, wondering how he’d gotten this far. He’d make the fight interesting, but the death quick and painless.

“My name isUhrzuun,” 3491 said quickly, avoiding Champion’s blade. “My mother’s name was Eugyt, and my father’s name was Ch’Koran. I lived on a small farm with five siblings.”

“What are you talking about? Shut up and die.”

“I’ve completed fifteen cycles around my planet’s sun.”

 _He’s only fifteen years old_? Champion pushed the thought away and took another swipe with his sword.

Uhrzuun dodged the slice fluidly. “I like to draw. I draw very well, and am the top of my art class. My dream is to create something that people will talk about for generations.”

“Stop telling me about yourself!”

“My youngest sister’s name is Cha’kkran. She has nightmares, and I’m the only one who can calm her down. She’s sweet, with big purple eyes that make you melt when she looks at you. She loves animals, and together we help flying creatures who have gotten hurt, or rescue woodland animals who get trapped.”

 _He has a sister. A family. An art class. He wants to make art. His name is Uhrzuun_. Champion shook away the thoughts. _No. He’s prisoner 3491, and he’s my opponent. It’s him or me_.

“We don’t have to fight, you and I. Look, I can tell you’re a good fighter. We could fight back, change things. We could end the Galra, or at least escape from them. We can go back to our own planets. Don’t you want to go home? To your family.”

Champion hesitated. “I don’t have a family,” he growled, advancing again.

“There has to be someone,” Uhrzuun protested, moving back, away from him, “Someone who you want to go back to!”

 _Keith. All alone, on Earth_. “Shut _up_!”

Uhrzuun dropped his weapon. “Look, see, we don’t have to fight.”

Champion took a step back. He was dropping his weapon? What trick did he have up his sleeve?

Uhrzuun stepped back from his blade, smiling reassuringly at him. “It’s easy. Just put it down. We can walk away from this.” _His hair looks like a white version of Keith’s_.

Champion shook himself. “You’re wrong. The only way out of here is death. And the best we can do is survive to spite them.”

He lunged forward, and Uhrzuun- no, prisoner 3491- dodged, rolling under the blow to pick up his discarded weapon.

“Please! You can be better than this! Remember who you were before all of this!” _He had the same kind of eyes he’d said his sister had, big purple ones. Big, purple ones, just like Keith’s_.

“Just die!”

Champion swung and a spray of scarlet came from a gaping slash against Uhrzuun’s chest. He moved in for the kill, and hesitated. He had a sister. A family. A dream. No. No, he was just another opponent that Champion had to beat to survive.

“You’re not a killer,” Uhrzuun whispered.

Champion brought his blade down on Uhrzuun, but the lithe alien twisted away, bringing his blade in an arc towards Champion’s face. Champion lunged back to save his eyes, and felt a bright pain across his nose. Wet, sticky blood dripped down his face, and Champion screamed.

“I’m sorry! I don’t want to hurt you, but—”

Champion lodged his blade in 3491’s gut. The crowd roared, but Champion closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of Uhrzuun’s bloody corpse. The blood from Champion's wound was still pouring down his face.

 _Why did his hair have to look like Keith’s_?

 _Why did he have to look at me with Keith’s eyes_?

Xxx

Shiro paced his cell, resisting the urge to rub at his face, stitched up courtesy of a rough-handed robots.

 _A shock of white hair that looked like Keith’s_.

 _Big, purple eyes that stared accusingly at him_.

 _Bright scarlet staining the sand_.

“NO!” Shiro knuckled his forehead, trying to push the memories away. Then, there was a shaking. Alarms started blaring. Robots marched by his cell in their normal timing, but now there were living Galra interspersed with them, whispering about a rebel attack, about how the scum had finally crawled out of the gutter to face them.

There was a click, and someone entered the cellblock. Someone very obviously not Galra, a dog-woman with aviator goggles on. She came immediately to Shiro’s cell.

“Takashi Shirogane?”

Shiro nodded. “Yeah. That’s me.”

“Great. My name is Olia, now back up to the back of your cell.”

Olia clipped something to the cell door, and Shiro backed up, just in time as the door exploded. He blinked.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m rescuing you! Come on, my ship is this way!”

“Why?”

“Oh, come on, seriously? Is right here so much better?”

“Well- no, but—”

“Never look a gift horse in the mouth, Shirogane.”

“Sure, but there’s no such thing as a free lunch, and I want to know why you would save me, and what you’re going to get out of it.”

Olia blew out a deep breath. “Fine, if we’ve really got to do this right now, we’ve got a… a mutual friend. He vouched for you. We’re a bit of a rebellion against the Empire, so we could use a good fighter, and someone who knows how to think tactically. Or, if you don’t want to fight, we’ll send you home as soon as we figure out how to do it without the Galra noticing.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Ah… don’t want to say. It could be dangerous for him. Now, are you coming, or not?”

Shiro glanced at the cell. “I’m coming- wait, there’ll be a patrol in a couple of seconds.” He pulled Olia into his cell, his fingers tapping on the cell wall, counting out the cadence of the robot’s steps. They clattered down the hallway, apparently oblivious to the blown-up door.

Olia beamed. “See? A good thinker! Let’s get going. My ship is this way.”

“What about the other prisoners?”

“We don’t have time for a lengthy prison break. I was sent to grab you and get out before the Galra notice that we’re here.”

“We can’t just leave them!”

Olia stopped. “Look, I admire your ideals. It’s a very nice sentiment that you want to free the slaves. And I _would_ if I had the time, space and resources to do it. But sometimes, we don’t _get_ the luxury of ideals. This is war. We’ve got to take what we can and live to fight another day. Now, are you coming, or are you going to stay here and continue being the Galra’s pet killing machine?”

_Bright scarlet staining the sand._

_Purple eyes that looked like Keith’s, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling._

_His fault_.

“No. I don’t.”

“Right, well, let’s get moving.”

Shiro followed Olia through the hallways of the ship, wordlessly pulling her into shadowy alcoves as security bots passed them. Olia brought him to a breach in the hull of the hanger that her ship was filling, preventing the vacuum of space from dragging everything out. There was a platoon of robots surrounding it, and cameras set up. Olia pulled out a small gun and shut down the hangar doors to keep reinforcements out.

“Okay. When I say go, run for the ship. I’ll cover you, okay?”

Olia blasted all three cameras.

“GO!”

Shiro sprinted for the ship, and laser fire blasted over his shoulders from both directions. He crouched to make himself a smaller target, moving quickly in a zig-zag pattern to avoid getting hit.

Lasers flew over his head, but none touched him, most of them aimed for Olia. She returned fire, and robots went down, not programmed to avoid, only to shoot at their targets. Shiro was on the ship quickly, and Olia was following.

“Start it up!”

Shiro looked at all of the controls, and then at a big, metal box on it. “Um…”

Olia entered behind him. “Quiznek! They’ve booted my spaceship!” She looked outside. “There’ll be a control box… there!” She pointed to a small control panel. “I’ll get it, just a moment!”

She exited the ship, dodging laser fire and running for the panel. She typed away at it, and the box fell off. Shiro grinned. They might actually get away with this!

Then, Olia was falling back, her mouth open in a scream. A laser shot had made its way home to lodge in her leg.

 _That’s not good_.

Shiro looked around and spotted another laser gun hanging on the wall. He snatched it up and ran off of the ship, firing wildly at the sentries until they’d all fallen, holes in their metal bodies. He ran to Olia, who was holding her leg with a grimace.

“Can you walk?”

Olia struggled up, and then fell. “Ah! No- I—”

Shiro handed her his gun and scooped her up, princess-carrying her across the hangar. “I’ve got you.”

“You could’ve run.”

“I had the time. I had the space. I had the resources.” He grinned. “Why not?”

She grinned faintly back, then winced. “Ow- that _really_ stings.”

“You just got shot, and you think that it just stings?”

Olia gasped. “Yeah- _ow_!”

“Can you drive with your leg shot?”

“Yeah- I just need my arms- ah- ow…”

“Hold on, Olia, we’re almost there, just hang—”

The door to the hangar exploded, shoving Shiro and Olia forward. Shiro’s vision went black as he tumbled head over heels.

When his vision returned, the hangar was in flames, and there was something huge and metal pinning his right arm down. He shifted, and screamed as the metal tore at his skin. Bright scarlet blood pooled from his trapped arm.

Olia limped towards him, using a metal stick as a crutch. “Hang on, Shiro, I’ve got you!” She hoisted at the metal, her muscles straining, but it just tore more and Shiro’s vision went white with pain.

“Stop,” he gasped as metal feet tramped across the hangar floor towards them, “Olia, stop.”

“I’ll get you out of here, I promised that I would—”

Shiro grunted. “No- Olia, listen. If you- If you keep trying to help me, you’ll just- you’ll get caught too. Get to your ship and- ah- get out of here.”

“Shirogane—”

“No! Get out! You said it yourself, sometimes—” he grunted again- “—sometimes you’ve got to take what you can and live to fight. You’ve got to go.”

“I promised—”

“Olia, you won’t be able to get it off! Just go!”

She looked at him, and nodded, getting her crutch and hobbling to her ship. Lasers flew over her head, but none of them connected, and she ducked onto her ship. There was a revving noise, and Shiro watched with vision that flickered in and out, as it pulled out. Things started to fly out of the ship as the vacuum of space returned, pulling everything out. Shiro felt the twisted hunk of metal shift and move, and then he was flying towards the hole.

 _I’m sorry, Keith. I tried_.

A purple energy barrier shot up over the hole, and Shiro slammed into it, falling to the floor, and landing on his mangled arm with a scream.

 _Stars- no- ow- that_ \- Shiro’s vision flickered out, but a robot grabbed his good arm, hauling him up.

“So, _Champion_ ,” a cold voice hissed, “You tried to run.”

Shiro was limp in the robot’s grasp, and he didn’t respond.

“I didn’t think you’d be so foolish. This means punishment.”

Shiro caught sight of his right arm and shuddered. It was completely mangled, twisting in ways that arms _definitely_ weren’t supposed to twist. His wristwatch bleeped half-heartedly at him that it was damaged.

“Search him.”

Rough metal hands patted Shiro down, and he made a small noise of protest.

“I don’t have any weapons,” he slurred, “I’m unarmed.”

Cold, glowing, yellow eyes glittered down at him, full of malice, but also calculation, as if debating how useful Shiro would be in the future.

“Not yet, you’re not, Champion,” the voice hissed, “Not yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did just make that joke.


	7. Three... Two... One.

Keith tapped his foot impatiently as Mr. Harris called names for the simulator. Apparently, there was a new simulation. Some of the next-year cadets had been talking about it, and Mr. Harris had finally given into Lance’s demands that they be allowed to fly it. Mr. Harris was calling them up in groups of three- next year, your flight group wasn’t like the flight groups that they’d had for so long. Keith was assigned with two girls—he should really learn their names, they’d been in the same flight group for a while now—and the wait seemed to be taking _forever_.

Finally, “Kogane, Keith.”

“You’re the pilot,” the girls immediately told him, and delegated the roles of engineer and communications officer between them.

Keith sat down in the pilot’s seat, his hands finding the controls as they always did. Words flashed on the console in front of him.

 _A shuttle crashed. Find and rescue the survivors_.

Keith nodded to himself. Simple search and rescue. They’d done these before. The surface of a moon appeared in front of them, and Keith’s hands tightened on the controls. That was the surface of Kerberos. He’d seen it in enough pictures.

“Whoa, steady,” his mechanic warned, and Keith realized that he was diving towards the surface of the planet.

“Sorry. I thought I saw something.”

A voice crackled over their intercom. “Hello? Is someone there?”

Keith’s veins turned to ice. That was _Shiro’s_ voice coming out of the coms, _Shiro’s_ voice that they were using for a stupid training drill and—

 _Simulation failed_.

“Oh, great going, Kogane,” his communications officer snapped, “You nosedived right into the surface! What were you _doing_?!”

Keith wasn’t listening to her. He unbuckled himself, storming out of the simulator. Mr. Harris was writing notes on a little pad.

“What was that?” Keith snarled.

“Our new simulation,” Mr. Harris replied calmly, “I don’t design them, Keith.”

Keith stormed towards the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Away from you, and your stupid simulator,” Keith snapped. He raged down the hallways, briefly stopping by his room to get changed out of his Garrison uniform before opening the door to the outside and sneaking into the Garrison garage. Shiro had given written permission for Keith to use his hoverbike, and Keith had no trouble getting it out. Keith drove it out of the garage and towards the lowest point of the Garrison wall. He revved the engine and drove straight at the wall at top speed.

_Three… two… one._

Keith slammed on the brakes, and the bike flipped, tumbling over the wall. Keith killed the engine.

 _Three… two… one._ he turned the engine back on mid-flip, and the bike righted itself. _It’s all about timing._ He roared across the open desert.

 _Finally free_.

Xxx

Iverson rubbed his temples. “You’ve checked his room?”

Mr. Harris nodded. “And the library. And he didn’t show up for meals.”

Iverson sighed. “Right. We’ll check the security feeds.”

Mr. Harris followed him into the camera station, where all of the security feeds were coming through. “How are you going to comb through it all?”

“We’re not. We’re going to make a patch. Or, more accurately, one of _them_ is.” Iverson pulled a computer engineer to the side. “Hey. We’re looking for Kogane. We need a patch.”

The engineer nodded and got to work, clicking away on a computer and then connecting to the security feed. Hundreds of feeds flashed by, and then, finally, they could see Keith, storming through the hallways. He went into his room, and then to the garage, in different clothes, and then… Iverson watched in shock as he flipped a hoverbike over the wall safely.

“Kid has guts,” he grunted.

“What a flier,” Mr. Harris whispered, “I mean, I’ve seen him in the simulators, but this… that’s top-notch piloting, timing and instinct.”

“It’s also not permitted,” Iverson growled.

“Well, no…”

“He’s not getting off the hook for this.” Iverson called in a security officer. “I want you here,” he said, pointing at the feed to where Keith had flipped over the wall, “and when Cadet Kogane comes through, I want him brought to me.”

“Sir?”

“He’s got to come back eventually. And when he does, his fancy-pants butt is going to be in my office.”

Xxx

Keith zoomed towards the edge of the cliffs, his palms sweating from nervousness. He adjusted his grip on the handlebars of his bike, and then he was weightless, flying over the edge of the cliff, the wind blowing his hair straight out.

_Three…two… one…_

Keith pulled up, and his hoverbike settled to the desert floor, shooting straight across the desert towards the tiny speck in the distance that he knew was his old home. After what seemed like a few seconds- but had actually been half an hour- he was there. He went to the back of the house where his tree was. It had gotten big, big enough to climb. Keith did climb it, ascending the branches to the top, where he could see out over the desert.

 _The world’s big. So why am I stuck in such a small part of it_? _Why don’t I ever seem to go any further than the desert_?

Keith sighed, climbing back down and getting on the hoverbike, roaring back towards the Garrison wall. The nurse would have his hide if he missed another meal. Even if he _was_ barely eating any of it, and was giving most of it to Hunk.

 _Three… two… one… Brake. Kill the engine. Three… two… one. On_.

Keith landed the bike and started towards the garage. Then the bike stopped. Keith glanced down and saw a boot on the bike’s stabilizer.

“Ah, no!”

A security guard stepped out from a tree. “Keith Kogane, come with me.”

Xxx

Iverson paced his office, looking outside at the cadet in outside of his office, visible through his one-way window. He didn’t look even the slightest bit remorseful. Only angry. At himself, or Iverson, he couldn’t tell, but he certainly wasn’t going to apologize.

Iverson opened the office door, and the school counsellor stepped in. “I want to talk to him first.”

“Discipline is—”

“Your domain, I know but- look, most rule-breakers have some bigger issue at heart, and as leaders of schooling, for children- we’re supposed to help them grow.”

“Fine. He’s yours. Then he’s mine.”

She nodded. “Just… wait for judgement, okay?”

Xxx

Keith’s fingers tapped restlessly on his arm as the counsellor smiled at him. “What am I doing here?” he grumbled, “I messed up, okay, I know.”

“Keith, I know that you’re not a bad kid.”

“Well, you’re completely wrong.”

“We all have reasons for doing things. Typically good reasons. So, what was yours?”

Keith crossed his arms. “Nothing.”

She slid a paper to him. There was a chart, with a line that started low, went up, stayed up, then took a sudden nosedive.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a record of your homework records and classroom participation, starting from when you came to the Garrison to now.”

“And?”

“Well, it’s normal after a transfer for it to take time to settle into a routine- so that low participation and then it’s start upwards is perfectly normal.” She tapped the point where the line took a nosedive. “That started eight months ago.”

Keith looked out the window. “So?”

“You and I both know what happened eight months ago, Keith.”

Keith’s jaw clenched, and he didn’t respond.

“Keith, it’s nearly the end of the school year. Your future is on the line.”

“I don’t care.” He was a good pilot. He could get through on that. He could still be a pilot, could still succeed, even if he _didn’t_ do his homework.

 _Unless they kick you out for your asthma_.

“Keith, I’ve seen this happen before. You’re bright, and a good flier from what I hear. But… only if you apply yourself.”

“And?”

“I think you need someone to help you through this. An adult. I should’ve seen where your grief was taking you. I should’ve seen that you were hurting like this. And that’s my failing.”

“The only adult I want to ‘help me through this’,” Keith said through gritted teeth, “is floating out in deep space.”

“Keith—”

“Can I just get yelled at by the Commander already?”

The counsellor pursed her lips. “Fine. But you might not like what you hear.”

Keith shrugged and left her office, knocking on Iverson’s door.

“Enter.”

Keith came in, snapping a salute. “Sir.”

“Cadet.” Iverson pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sit down.”

Keith gulped. Yelling, he was equipped to handle. He was used to that. He didn’t know what to do with this quieter, subdued Iverson. “Sir?”

Iverson slid a paper across his desk to Keith, who took it, scanning it quickly. His heart dropped down to his feet.

“Sir? This is…”

“An expulsion form, yes.”

“I…”

“Your grades are abysmal, mostly due to a failure to complete and turn in homework. You deliberately crashed a simulator today. Security feed indicates that you’ve been going off-campus without permission for the last eight months. You don’t work well in a team, and you’ve shown issues with discipline. The Garrison doesn’t have a place for someone who can’t take orders and work with a team.”

Keith’s heart jumped to his throat. “Sir, I can do better, I _swear_ I can, please, just give me another shot and—”

“Cadet. My decision on this is final. You have three hours to pack up your belongings. We’ll return your knife to you. And Takashi Shirogane left you his hoverbike in his will, so you can take that as well.”

Keith gulped. It was really happening. They were really throwing him out, after everything. “Sir…?”

Iverson looked away from him. “I think this is for the best, Kogane.”

 _Kogane. Not Cadet, or Cadet Kogane, because I’m not a cadet anymore_.

“Three hours, cadet.”

Three hours seemed to pass by in a blur, shoving everything he owned—which wasn’t much—into a duffle bag. True to Iverson’s word, he was handed back his knife, and then he was outside of the Garrison walls with the hoverbike (now without the boot) next to him, clutching the strap of his duffle bag. Keith’s legs wobbled, and he collapsed to the sand with a _thump_. That was it. He was out. He wouldn’t ever fly again. He would never go to the stars.

“Hey!”

Keith looked up and saw Griffin, scowling at him out of the window.

“What were you thinking, Kogane?!”

Keith didn’t answer.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this! I was supposed to beat you fair and square! Not because you gave up!”

Keith stared bleakly at the ground. Griffin was right. He’d just… given up. He’d stopped caring, and this was where it had gotten him. He’d be in the desert forever.

“After everything- after Shirogane worked to get you here, after I saved you from the fire, after all these years- and you just gave up?!”

Keith’s shoulders shook a little, staring at the sand. He’d failed them. Shiro, who’d wanted so badly for him to succeed. Griffin, who’d wanted them all to succeed, the whole flight group, together. His entire flight group, who might suffer because of him.

“Get back in here and try again! You don’t just give up!”

“I can’t,” Keith said blankly, “They’ve kicked me out.”

“What, and you’re just going to accept that?! When have you _ever_ accepted the word of an adult?! When in your life have you _not_ rebelled against them?!”

Keith shifted the duffle bag on his shoulders and clambered onto the hoverbike, securing the bag on the back of the bike and revving the engine.

“Where are you going?”

Keith ignored him. _I said I wouldn’t cry. No tears. Leave it all behind you, move on like you always move on. Three… two… one._

The desert sands blocked the Garrison from sight, and the howling wind from the bike snatched away any tears that might have fallen from its rider.

Xxx

“Commander!”

Iverson stood and snapped a salute as Sanda entered his office. “Admiral.”

“At ease,” she snapped, “Now, then.” She shut the door. “YOU KICKED HIM OUT?!”

“Cadet Kogane? Yes.”

“OUR ONLY LINK TO EXTRATERRESTRIAL LIFE, AND YOU LET HIM GO?!”

“He didn’t have a place here. He can’t take orders.”

“I TOLD YOU TO REFER TO _ME_ WHEN DEALING WITH HIM!”

“With all due respect, Ma’am, I was only supposed to refer to you when dealing with his genetics and origins.”

“SO?!”

“This had nothing to do with those things. He didn’t keep up to the Garrison standards, so I expelled him.”

Admiral Sanda’s nostrils flared as she obviously struggled to keep her temper in check. “I could have you court-marshaled. Give me one reason I _shouldn’t_ have you court-marshaled.”

Iverson met her eyes with a steady gaze. “Because then you’d have to explain to the world _why_ you had me court-marshaled.”

Sanda glared at him, but he didn’t break her gaze. She was the first to look away. “Fine. Get a search and retrieve party out. Get him back.”

Iverson didn’t respond.

“Commander,” she warned in a deadly tone of voice.

Iverson sighed. “It’ll take half an hour to get them assembled.”

“It didn’t take that long when the sandstorm had them!”

“When there’s a major sandstorm, we keep them at the ready just in case we have a distress call. They’re off-duty right now. I’ll have to assemble them from nothing.”

Sanda glared. “Fine,” she snapped, “Half an hour. Any longer, and I’ll have you punished for insubordination.”

Iverson saluted. “I’ll get on it.”

Sanda nodded crisply and left, slamming the door behind her. Iverson glanced out the window at the desert, where Kogane had probably gone. _Run, Cadet_.


	8. “Love You”s and City Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, these chapters are writing themselves really fast.

Keith parked his hoverbike in a driveway, checking the address he’d written down after a quick search in the public library. Yeah. He was here. Katie’s house. Mrs. Holt’s house. He let out a deep breath as he walked up to the door, his finger hovering near the doorbell. He stared at it.

 _I can’t do this_.

He couldn’t show up here, after he’d failed. After he’d given up, after he’d let himself be expelled from the Garrison. He couldn’t show up and look them in the eye, Katie and Mrs. Holt, who had also lost someone- _two_ someone’s, in fact- but hadn’t given up like he had.

Keith’s hand dropped down, and he walked back to the bike, glancing down the street. Garrison jeeps were driving down the road.

 _They’re coming for me_.

He didn’t know how he knew, but he hadn’t gotten this far by ignoring his instincts. He got on the bike, quickly, and roared down the street. He saw them coming towards him, and he nodded, his mouth set in a firm line.

 _I can lose them if I can get to the desert, easy. They don’t know it like I do_.

He roared outside of the city limits, kicking up desert sands. _I can go to my house, once I lose them_. He frowned as another thought hit him. _They’ll keep looking, though. They’ll go searching through the desert until they find me. How am I supposed to stop them_?

Keith whipped through the desert, the Garrison jeeps far behind. _What if they thought I was dead? No use looking for a dead man_.

Keith looked up ahead. The rock formations were nearby. Perfect. He grabbed his duffle bag with one hand, steering the bike with the other. He aimed right for a rock and kicked up the speed.

 _Three… two… one_!

Keith leapt from the bike, his left ankle twisting awkwardly on landing. He staggered to his knees with a groan, clutching his ankle, watching as his bike, his present from Shiro, the only thing left of him, went careening into a rock formation.

The shockwave from the resulting explosion sent him flying backwards into another rock, and he blacked out for a second. When the world reasserted itself, he was lying on his stomach, his cheek pressed to the sand. His ears were ringing. Keith pushed himself up, blinking at his surroundings.

Nearby, the bike, the beautiful grey bike, was burning, completely destroyed beyond all repair. Keith stumbled towards it, his left ankle sending shoots of pain up his leg every time he put weight on it. His chest hurt, too, and even his inhaler wasn’t helping.

Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear the hum of the Garrison jeeps, and his sluggish mind struggled to come up with a plan. They needed to really think that he was dead- the crash wouldn’t cut it. He had to leave something behind- something that they would think he couldn’t live without.

His eyes traveled to his inhaler. _No. Too dangerous. If I have an attack, **no one** can find me. I might actually die._

 _But that’s why it’ll be convincing_.

 _This is a bad idea. This is a very, **very** bad idea_.

Keith tossed his inhaler onto the burning bike, watching the plastic melt. _Well, this is going to be fantastic_.

The hum of the jeeps got louder, and Keith limped away, his breath rasping in his chest.

 _I really hope that’s a side effect of the crash, and not the asthma_.

Xxx

Iverson got out of a jeep, the rest of the search team surrounding the wreckage of the bike. “Sir, we… we don’t know…”

Iverson spotted a burned bit of plastic. “He’s dead.”

“What?”

Iverson nodded to the plastic. _Smart cadet_. “No one with asthma would leave their inhaler behind if they’d survived. It’s too important.”

“But there’s no body…”

Iverson looked the search and rescue captain in the eye. “He’s dead, Captain.”

The captain’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh. Yes. The fire must have destroyed the body. Or… a wild animal could’ve dragged it off.”

“Right. Excellent thinking. But whatever the reason, there’s nothing left.”

“Of course. Move out,” the captain ordered his men, “Our target is deceased!”

Iverson scanned the desert, and near a rock formation, his gaze locked with a pair of glittering violet eyes. He gave a short nod and broke away. “Let’s get going, we’ve all got reports to write!”

Xxx

Keith breathed out a deep sigh of relief from behind a rock formation and slid down into a sitting position, his head leaning against the rock. He closed his eyes. Now seemed like a good time to take a nap.

No. He couldn’t stay here. He needed to get shelter, and a supply of water, food too. He staggered to his feet, limping to his duffle bag and swinging it over one shoulder, wincing as he jostled his ribs. Yep. Those were definitely bruised at the least, broken at the worst.

Keith surveyed his surroundings. He was reasonably close to his house- three or four miles away at most. It wouldn’t be fun, but he could make it. There would be shelter and shade there, at least, and maybe some canned food or bottled water.

He limped his way in the direction of his house, the hot sun burning down on him. He took his jacket off and made a canopy of it over his head to block out some of the sun. Why was it so _bright_?

Keith’s ankle throbbed, and his chest ached. He wished he’d thought to bring water, but he hadn’t thought that he’d be crashing the hoverbike.

He finally staggered up the steps of his porch, his fingers fumbling to unlock the door. Once he was inside, he collapsed on the couch, tugging at his left boot, which had grown annoyingly tight. He succeeded at tugging it off, and winced. His ankle was swollen.

 _Probably sprained. Great going_.

Keith limped to the kitchen, turning on the faucet, hoping beyond hope. Nothing happened. He sighed and limped towards the pantry, then spotted the water pressure. It was off. All of the water in the house would be off. He turned it, holding his breath. There was a coughing noise from the sink, and water started to flow from the faucet.

Keith blinked, and then limped back to the faucet, sipping water and forcing himself not to gulp it down. An old laptop was sitting on the kitchen counter, and Keith booted it up, holding his breath. A file was labled “Keith”, and he clicked on it with a frown.

A video opened, and Keith gasped as his dad’s face came into view.

“Hey, bud.”

“Hey,” Keith whispered, even though he knew it was a recording.

His dad laughed with an embarrassed face. “Ah, if anyone other than Keith is watching this, then that’s a little awkward, but I’m hoping it’s you, buddy.”

“It’s me, Dad,” Keith whispered, tears blooming in the corners of his eyes. “It’s me.”

“Uh, yeah, if you’re watching this, I’m going to assume that one of those fires finally fought _me_. And won.”

There was a clattering, and his dad looked behind him. “Ah, okay, looks like you woke up from your nap, so I’ll keep this short. The house is connected to my bank account, basically, so any electricity and water bills are paid automatically. Assuming you don’t leave the lights on, that should keep everything running for a while- if you manage it well, it’ll be self-sufficient for two years, at least. Um… Right, I’ve got a stash of cash up high in the pantry, at the bottom of a box of candy, so that you can get food and clothes and stuff, and the hoverbike is out in the shed.”

There was a pitter-patter of feet, and a younger Keith wandered into camera view, maybe three or four. “Da?”

Keith’s dad scooped the smaller him up. “Hey, buddy! You woke up!”

Small Keith nodded and reached for the camera.

“Ah, ah, don’t touch that, okay, bud?”

“Outside?”

“Sure, just a minute buddy. Go get your shoes on, okay?”

“’Kay.”

Keith’s dad set his younger self down and watched him toddle off with an expression of love that made Keith wish he could reach through the screen and go back to that time. Keith’s dad turned back to the camera with a laugh.

“You seem to spend all of your time outside, running around the desert or looking for lizards.” Akira Kogane scratched his head. “Yeah, I think that’s probably about it- oh, I haven’t given it to you yet, but I have a knife for you. Keep it safe, okay? It’s how your mom will find you. And that’s all I need to tell you, except for one more thing. It’s the most important part, so listen up.” Keith’s dad settled into his seat and smiled at the camera. “I love you, Keith.”

Little Keith’s voice sounded from the door. “Da? Outside now?”

“Coming, Keith.”

Keith’s dad reached towards the screen, and the video ended. Keith gently touched the screen, pressing his fingers against his father’s fingers

“Love you too, Dad.”

Keith swiped at his eyes, closing the computer. Right. He had a hoverbike. He had money. He was going to need a new inhaler. But… that would go on record. And he was supposed to be dead.

Keith got on the computer again, doing a quick internet search and writing down an address. Okay. He could pull this off. Maybe.

He waited until nighttime to get on the hoverbike, driving through the cool night air. It was slower than he would’ve liked, but he didn’t want to go top speed with his ankle the way it was- it was too risky. He drove up to town, leaving the bike outside of the city limits and limping the rest of the way through the buildings until he found the house he wanted. He peered in a lit window, and tapped on finger on the glass.

Inside, Dr. Jennifer Orla screamed and fell backwards out of a chair. Keith winced. Oops. Dr. Jenny came to the window and opened it, staring at him. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I’m alive.”

“ _Clearly_.” Dr. Jenny put a hand to her chest. “What happened?”

“Long story. Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Um…” Dr. Jenny stepped back, and Keith clambered in through the window.

“I found your address online. I’m sorry, but I—”

“Need a new inhaler,” Dr. Jenny finished, “I figured. I mean, why else would you come here?”

“Yeah… do you have one?”

Dr. Jenny laughed incredulously. “Not on me, no.”

“Oh.” Keith fidgeted. “Do you think there’s any way you might be able to get one?”

Dr. Jenny crossed her arms. “You were running from the Garrison. You’re on the run now, you’re… an outlaw, I suppose, a criminal. Why shouldn’t I just turn you in?”

“Doctor-patient confidentiality?” Keith tried.

She smiled. “I’ll accept that. But only if you tell me why they’re after you.”

Keith shrugged helplessly, sitting down on a chair to take the weight off of his ankle. “I don’t know. They told me to get out, and then the next thing I knew, they were chasing me.”

Dr. Jenny sat in a chair on the opposite side of the table after shutting the window. “You didn’t steal anything from the Garrison?”

“No.”

“Didn’t damage anything?”

“No! I didn’t… do… oh.”

“What? What is it?”

Keith ran his fingers through his bangs. “That makes _sense_ , if Iverson wasn’t supposed to get rid of me—they wouldn’t want me to just run loose, would they?”

“What?”

“You were always asking to see my genes- well, there’s a reason they wouldn’t show them to you, and that's why they're chasing me. They want me back to study my genes.”

“Why’s that? What's different about your genes?”

Keith didn’t answer.

“Keith?” Keith stayed quiet. Dr. Jenny sighed. “Sounds like you’ve had a rough day. I’ll go make up the guest bedroom.”

“What?”

“You’re staying here tonight, aren’t you?”

“I am?”

“Well, I’m not going to let you go off alone right now, am I? Besides, I don’t have any way of getting in contact with you, so you’ll have to stay here until I can get the inhaler. You stay right there. I’ll be right back.”

She walked off, and Keith heard a door opening and shutting. He limped up after her, wincing as he climbed the stairs. She ran into him at the top of the stairs. “Oh, okay, come on.” His ankle folded as he stepped down wrong, and he fell with a yelp. Dr. Jenny turned back towards him.

“Are you okay.”

“Mhm,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Dr. Jenny watched him like a hawk as he walked towards the room she indicated. “What’s wrong with your leg?”

“Uh- my ankle hurts- I’ll be—”

“Shoe off,” she ordered.

Keith sat on the bed and pulled off his left boot, revealing his swollen ankle. Dr. Jenny sucked in a deep breath.

“That didn’t sound good.”

“It’s _not_ good,” she informed him, “You’ve sprained your ankle.”

“Oh…”

“I’ll wrap it up, and you shouldn’t walk on it too much, okay? It’s okay. Sprains are common. It could happen to anyone. Anything else?”

“Um- no.”

Dr. Jenny frowned, her head cocked to the side like she was listening to something. “Shirt off,” she ordered.

“What?!”

“You heard me.”

Keith wriggled out of his shirt, and Dr. Jenny winced. “I’m going to get a stethoscope. Hold on.”

Keith looked down at his torso, and he winced just as hard as Dr. Jenny. His chest was covered in bruises- probably from the explosion. Dr. Jenny came back with a roll of medical tape and a stethoscope, which she put on his chest. It was cold, and Keith nearly flinched away when it touched his skin.

“Breathe in, deep breath.”

Keith obeyed, wincing as it caught in his chest.

“Breathe out.”

Keith released the breath in a short whoosh, and Dr. Jenny moved the stethoscope to his back.

“In.”

Another sharp intake.

“Out.”

Another whoosh of air.

Dr. Jenny frowned. “Twist to the side.”

Keith managed half of a twist, and then stopped with a wince. “Ow.”

Dr. Jenny nodded, still frowning. “I think you’ve broken a rib or two. I can’t tell for sure without an X-ray, but…”

“But we can’t do that.”

Dr. Jenny nodded, taping up his ankle, her hands gentle, but firm and strong. “Right. I don’t keep an X-ray machine in my house.” She patted his shoulder gently. “The best you can do for the ankle and for the ribs is just to rest and not overexert yourself.” Dr. Jenny glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I think it’s bedtime. Good night, Keith.”

“Night.”

Dr. Jenny smiled at him and walked down the hallway a different room. Keith edged into the bedroom and discovered, to his relief, that it locked. Not that he didn’t trust Dr. Jenny—and she probably had a key anyway—but he felt safer with the door firmly closed and shut. The window, though, he left unlocked, just in case.

Keith sat down on the bed, which was a lot softer than Garrison beds. He didn’t take his boots back off, just in case he needed to go in a minute, instead tucking them under the blankets. He glanced out the window, but there were no stars, only city lights. He imagined the twinkling lights to be stars instead of man-made daylight.

“Goodnight, Dad,” he whispered, then, for the first time, “Goodnight, Shiro.” He hadn’t said Shiro’s name to the stars since the crash, because he’d always hoped that Shiro was still alive. But now… He’d lost his last ties to him.

He thought of his stuffed hippo, shoved in a duffle bag. “Night, Po,” he added.

The city lights were not the stars.

They were cold, distant, unlike the bright and familiar constellations.

The city lights did not twinkle goodnight back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, was anyone else wondering how Keith sustained the house? Does he have a job?


	9. Company

(Dr. Jenny wasn't originally supposed to be a very important or recurring character, but now that she is, I figure you should have a general idea what she looks like. If anyone wants to draw a better one, please do.)

 

Keith woke up to the smell of something cooking downstairs. He blinked blearily at the ceiling. Where was he?”

He yawned, and everything came back to him as his ribs screamed in protest, and his ankle started to throb. Keith threw the blankets off and got out of bed, putting most of his weight on his right leg and shuffling down the stairs into the kitchen. Dr. Jenny was flipping pancakes.

“Morning,” she said without even turning around, “You’re up early.”

Keith rubbed at his eyes. “Garrison wake-up time.”

“I’m making pancakes. Much better than Garrison breakfasts.” Dr. Jenny gave him a sideways glance. “Keith, what would you think about staying here?”

“Stay… here?”

“Yeah. I know we don’t know each other that well, and I’m just your doctor, but I don’t like the idea of you going off to live on your own. You’re seventeen- you shouldn’t even be out of care of an adult yet.”

Keith crossed his arms. “I didn’t want to go back to the foster system.”

“Still. I don’t feel comfortable knowing that you’ll be by yourself.

_“I think you need someone to help you through this. An adult.”_

Keith shook away the words of the school counsellor. He didn’t need an adult. He could survive on his own- he had the money from his dad, of course, and that would give him enough time to find a way out of the desert. To get somewhere he could start over. Mexico, maybe, or Canada.

It might be nice, though. To not worry about anything, and just let someone else take care of him.

No. No, that had been what he’d done with Shiro. He’d sworn he wouldn’t- that he _couldn’t_ let it happen again, because he’d only be setting himself up for heartbreak.

“No. Thank you,” he added, “But I can’t.”

Dr. Jenny looked at him sharply. “Can’t, or won’t?” When he didn’t answer, she let out a sigh. “At least until your ankle is healed, okay? That’s not just worry, it’s _dangerous_ for you to be out there on your own with your ankle the way it is.”

Keith sighed. “Fine.”

She smiled at him. “Okay. Good. And you can think it over, too. I don’t need your answer right away.” She handed him a plate with three pancakes on it, as well as a fork and knife. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast.”

“You go eat those. Syrup’s in the pantry.”

Keith got the syrup, incredibly spooked with how easily Dr. Jenny had gotten used to him being in the house with her. Did people do that? Just fall easily into a pattern of having new people around?

Keith ruled that it was one of those “Open people vs. Closed people” things and sat down to eat his pancakes. They were _good_. _Definitely_ better than Garrison breakfast. Dr. Jenny joined him, using the syrup liberally.

“As a doctor, I know how unhealthy this is for me,” she told him, “As a human being, I don’t care.”

Keith shifted in his seat. “Do you have company over a lot?”

Dr. Jenny shrugged. “My sister comes in and out of town. She’s a blogger. Goes places so that you don’t have to.” She said the last sentence with her fingers making quotation marks, and laughed. “Yeah, she’s over whenever she’s in the states. I keep the bedroom generally ready. And sometimes a few friends from work, but they don’t often stay the night.”

“Friends from work?”

“Dr. Christopher. Sergeant Curtis. Tak—” Dr. Jenny swallowed hard. “Takashi.”

Keith sat bolt upright. “ _Shiro_?!”

“Yeah. After you happened, we ended up talking a lot, and we just… hung out.”

“He never told me!”

“We thought it might weird you out.”

 _Yes, yes it would_! Well. At least it made sense why she was so concerned for him.

Dr. Jenny shrugged. “We went out for coffee a few times- well, we went to a coffee place and drank tea. We both like tea.”

“Wait, back up, _what_?!”

Dr. Jenny laughed. “It wasn’t like _that_ , Keith. We were just friends. Adults have those too, you know.” She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to get going. Uh- you can watch some TV if you want to, or… I don’t know. Whatever it is that teenage boys do in their spare time. Do that.”

“Okay.”

She hesitated. “I think… it’s probably safer if… if you don’t leave the house.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to worry you… it’s probably fine, since they think you’re dead, but I don’t want anyone spotting you and reporting you. So just… if you’ve got to go outside, try to keep to the backyard where the fence is, okay?

“Okay.”

She gave him an anxious smile. “I’ll be back before dinner. There’ll be food in the refrigerator for lunch. Please, Keith… don’t run away.”

He blinked. “Okay. I’ll stay here.”

“Okay. Good.” She grabbed her keys. “I’ll see you tonight. Try not to get into any trouble.”

Then she was out the door and gone.

Xxx

Jenny felt a bead of perspiration go down her neck as she clocked into the Garrison. If they found out… if they ever knew who was in her house… it might not be a matter of her job. It might be a matter of her freedom, and the rest of her life.

“Morning,” a nurse said as she walked in.

“Morning,” Jenny said brightly—too brightly, she was overdoing it, she just needed to calm down.

Right. Calm down, while there was a fugitive in her house, while she was breaking every single rule—well, except for her “to heal, never to harm” rule.

“Jennifer!”

Jenny froze as Dr. Christopher approached her. “Hi, Chris!” she chirruped. Too bright, she was being _too bright_.

“You heard about the ex-cadet, right?”

Jenny struggled to look more subdued. “Yeah, crashed a hoverbike. I heard there wasn’t enough of him to…” She gulped. “Takashi would be so sad if…”

Chris put a hand on hers. “I’m sorry, Jenny, I didn’t mean to drag that up, I know- I’m sorry.”

“Th-That’s okay.” _Go away, please, Chris, I can’t talk right now_.

“I was thinking- I was thinking that maybe he’s not dead, though.”

Jenny’s head whipped up. _How did he know_?! “What?!”

Chris shrugged. “Well, Iverson was on the leading search team.”

“So?”

Chris leaned in. “I’m probably not supposed to talk about this, but- well, the commander was asking about surgeries to find out what organs and bone tissue are made of. I think—I think maybe he actually _found_ Keith out in the desert and faked his death so that they could take him and do the surgeries.”

Jenny couldn’t help it. She laughed. Chris could not have been further from the truth, and her laugh was half relief and half actual amusement. “That’s quite the theory, Chris.”

“What?”

“This isn’t a science fiction novel, Chris. Thank you, though. I needed that.”

“I’m not joking!”

Jenny fought back laughter. “Okay. I’ve got to go now, Chris. I’ve got appointments.”

“Lunch, later?”

“I’m sorry, Chris. I’ve got a lot of appointments today, so I might just have to grab something and run. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Yeah, okay. Later.”

“Later.”

“I’m right,” he called after her.

 _Oh, Chris_. Jenny bit her lip. She hadn’t wanted to lie to him. In fact, her lunch schedule would be completely open, but there was something else she had to do with her break.

Xxx

Keith wandered around Dr. Jenny’s house, absentmindedly tapping out the Morse code alphabet against his leg. What did Dr. Jenny do on her time off? He didn’t see anything lying around that could indicate… he opened a door and made an “ah” noise. There was a picture of her and another woman that Keith didn’t know, but he supposed to be her sister. They were on top of one of the cliffs, grinning their heads off.

So, she was a rock climber, or maybe a hiker. And a bit of a nerd, based on the books that were lining the shelves, too. He selected one at random. The Hobbit. He frowned. What was a Hobbit? He took the book back to the guest room and started to read it. It was a bit difficult- the author certainly liked describing things- but he started to enjoy it.

There were swords.

Dr. Jenny had good tastes.

Xxx

Jenny glanced around before slipping into the Garrison pharmacy and going straight back to the prescriptions.

Kaye… Kerr… Kettel… Killock… Kinman… Knox… Kogane. Dr. Jenny pulled out the box and took out an inhaler. Looked fine.

She glanced around again, put the box back up, and started towards the pharmacy door. The normal pharmacist met her with a frown.

“Dr. Orla. What were you doing back there?”

“Oh! Sorry! I couldn’t find you!” _Too bright, **too bright**_. “I wanted to check if Cadet McClain was due for a refill on his ADHD meds.”

The pharmacist’s frown deepened. “He just got a refill a week ago.”

Jenny’s smile became a bit more fixed. “Oh… that’s right… he did, didn’t he? Ha, next thing you know, you’re going to be dealing _me_ pills to help with my memory? Sorry for the mix-up! I’ll get out of your way!”

“Why do you have an inhaler?”

Jenny felt her hairline begin to break sweat. “It’s mine. It was a bit dusty back there, so I had it just in case.”

The frown got even deeper. “I thought that you hadn’t had an attack in years?”

“Well… no… but it doesn’t hurt to be careful, does it?”

“Mmm. I suppose not. Have a nice day, Doctor.”

“You too.”

Jenny forced herself to walk normal, just _walk normal_ until she was out of the pharmacy, where she let out a deep sigh of relief, looking down at the inhaler in her hand. All of this, for a little bit of plastic and medication.

Still, she didn’t regret it.

Xxx

Admiral Sanda regarded the pharmacist in front of her. “You want us to check the security feeds for your pharmacy… because you think a doctor was acting suspiciously?”

“Yes, Ma’am. She said she was checking on a medication, but she checked that particular medication last week. And she said that the storeroom was dusty.”

“So?”

“The storeroom is spotless, Ma’am.”

“So you think she’s… what, stealing medicine? Why?”

“I don’t know. But something was definitely not right with her.”

Admiral Sanda let out a sigh. “Fine.” She pulled up the security feed on her computer, clicking through until she found the right camera. Dr. Jennifer Orla glanced around, entered the storeroom, and made straight for the K’s. Sanda frowned. “Whose medicine did she say she was checking?”

“McClain, Ma’am.”

“McClain doesn’t start with K.” Sanda watched the suspicious doctor pull out a box and take something from it before looking both ways and leaving, running into the pharmacist on the way back. Sanda frowned. “What names are over here?”

The pharmacist pulled out her phone, clicking through records. “Um… Kaye… Kerr… Kettel… Killock… Kinman… Knox… Kogane… Kr—”

“No. It’s Kogane she was after, I’m sure of it. Check the box. Actually, I’m coming with you.”

Sanda tapped quickly down the hallways with the pharmacist. The doctor from the camera feed looked out at them from an office, and Sanda decided that she looked definitively sketchy. And incredibly nervous.

The pharmacist ducked down the K section and pulled out the Kogane box. “It’s empty.”

“Who’s the doctor?”

“Um- Dr. Jennifer Orla. She deals with most of the cadets.”

“Hm.” Sanda sent out an alert to security.

 _Detain Dr. Jennifer Orla. And send a search party to her house. They’re looking for ex-cadet Keith Kogane. Don’t let anyone outside of the team members see him. Non-lethal force if necessary, but nothing damaging_.

A message from her head security guard came back. _We can detain Dr. Orla, but we need a warrant to search her house_.

Sanda growled. _I’m assuming emergency powers. That’s your warrant_.

The response was nearly immediate. _Right away_.

Xxx

Keith looked up from his book as there was a knock on the door. He went back down the stairs and looked out the window, then drew back immediately. The Garrison.

 _Dr. Jenny. No wonder she was so insistent that I stay. She was planning to turn me in_.

Keith backed away, looking out the back door. They were there, too. He ran back up the stairs, locking the guest room door behind him. He was trapped, sure, but they would take time to get past the lock.

 _Not much time, though_ , he thought as he heard the sound of the front door lock clicking open. He looked out the window. He’d have to wait for all of them to be in the house, or they’d get him anyway.

He watched as a team of Garrison members streamed out of the jeep, all pouring into the house. He heard pounding feet, and he waited, heart in his throat, beating so loudly he was sure they’d hear it and come right to him. But they stopped coming from the van, and he threw the window open, climbing out onto the roof.

 _Okay. Just like the Garrison roof_.

Keith looked around for a way down and spotted a tree.

 _Oh, no. Too far. **Way** too far_.

Keith let out a deep breath. “Okay. Oookay.”

The splintering of the guest room door made his mind up for him. He took a running leap, and his hands snagged a tree branch. He grasped it tightly, yelping as his arms were jerked by the force of his fall. The branch bent, putting him close enough to the ground that he could let go safely.

His injured ankle folded underneath him, and he hissed in as he fell, using the tree to pull himself back up.

 _Okay—they’re not injured, so that’s not good, and they’ll probably catch me if I run, but_... his eyes darted to the jeep they’d arrived in.

 _I mean, I’ve driven one before_ … No. No, that didn’t count. Three seconds of stealing Shiro’s car did _not_ mean that he could drive a car.

 _How different from hoverbiking can it be_?

Keith limped to the front seat and turned the key in the ignition, shifting the car into reverse and backing out of the driveway.

 _Okay, okay, we can do this_.

He shifted into drive and slammed his foot on the accelerator, the search team shouting behind him. He pressed harder on the accelerator, and then there was a sharp _pop_ , and he saw that one of the search members had a gun.

 _They wouldn’t shoot at their own vehicle, would_ —another pop sounded, and a tire went flat, dropping the whole vehicle with a jolt that deployed the airbag, pushing him against his seat. _No, yep, yep they would_.

Keith winced as the airbag pushed on his ribs, and then took his knife to it, making it pop. He jumped out of the jeep, his feet faltering slightly on the pavement before he took off running.

Something sharp hit him, like stepping on a needle, but in his shoulder. He shook it off, but then his right arm started going numb. _Oh, no_.

His feet stopped working, and he fell to the ground, unable to do anything except glare at the masked team that surrounded him, but even that small rebellion was denied him as his eyelids started to droop shut. He felt someone lock restraints on his wrists.

“The admiral isn’t going to be happy about this.”

One of the soldiers nudged him. “Sorry, Cadet. Just following orders.” A sigh. “What’s the deal with this kid?

“Dunno. We’re not supposed to question it. Just bring him in.”

Keith felt his senses shut down. _Stars preserve me_ , he thought dizzily, _from soldiers just blindly following orders_.


	10. Helpless

Jenny’s foot tapped nervously as she waited in Admiral Sanda’s office. What was she doing here? Had they found out? They couldn’t have- she hadn’t told anyone, how would they know?

The door opened, and Keith was pushed firmly in, his wrists locked in handcuffs. His eyes flicked around frantically, analytically, looking for a way out. Then his eyes settled on her, and she flinched. Betrayal. Anger. She wanted to hand him his inhaler, which she still had in her pocket, and tell him that she hadn’t ratted him out, that she didn’t know how they’d found out, but she couldn’t, not with the security guard in the room with them.

Admiral Sanda strode in, glaring at both of them. “Let’s get started.”

Xxx

Keith glanced around, hoping to find a way out, but he was pushed into a chair next to Dr. Jenny, Admiral Sanda’s eagle-sharp eyes locked them.

“So. You were harboring Keith Kogane?”

Dr. Jenny’s lips were pressed together, clearly trying to hold back tears, but she looked Sanda right in the eye and nodded.

“We found him in _your_ house. You were hiding him from us. You knowingly harbored a fugitive?”

Dr. Jenny’s voice was wavery. “He was supposed to be dead. Or are corpses fugitives now?”

“You knew we were looking for him! So, yes, you harbored a fugitive!”

Dr. Jenny lifted her chin. “A child in need knocked on my door and asked for help. I took an oath to the Garrison, yes, but before that, I took the Hippocratic oath. To heal and never to harm. Which would you have me violate?”

Keith’s mind short-circuited. Fugitive? Harboring? Hiding? They hadn’t come to Dr. Jenny’s house because she’d told them he was there?

“You’ve broken the law. You’ve impeded justice.”

“Then tell me what he’s done!”

“Stop!” Keith interrupted, “Stop, it’s not her fault.” He looked at Dr. Jenny. “You can stop.”

Dr. Jenny blinked. “What?”

“I threatened her,” Keith told Sanda, “I told her that if she didn’t help me out, I’d kill her. And if she ratted me out, I’d get away, and I’d kill her sister.”

A small smirk crossed Sanda’s face. “You have no reason to tell me that. Unless you’re lying to bail her out.”

Keith stared her dead in the eye. “Just because if _you_ threatened someone you’d let them take the fall, it doesn’t meant that _I_ would. I can’t let her take the fall because I threatened her. I have a conscience, which is more than I can say for you.”

Admiral Sanda’s eyes lit up with fury. “How dare you—”

“You’re not my commanding officer anymore. I don’t have to show you _any_ respect!”

Admiral Sanda’s gaze flicked to Dr. Jenny. “Get out. You’re lucky that I’m not court-marshaling you, and if you keep your job, it’ll be a miracle.”

Dr. Jenny gulped and got up to go, passing by Keith on her way out. He felt something settle into his pocket, and he recognized the familiar weight of his inhaler. The ghost of a smile crossed his face. He wasn’t exactly sure what Sanda wanted with him—although the surgeries that Iverson had been talking about came to mind—but he doubted he’d get to keep the inhaler.

Still. He was glad to have it.

Once Dr. Jenny was gone, Sanda turned her gaze on Keith. “I’d suggest you watch your mouth, Kogane.”

Keith couldn’t cross his arms, so he settled back in his chair, disrespectfully refusing to sit at attention. “Why?”

“Because I can either make everything we do relatively harmless, or I can make everything very, _very_ painful for you. Which is it going to be?”

In response, Keith slammed the cuffs on his wrist into her computer, cracking the screen. “Your face is next.”

“Painful way it is.”

Keith lunged towards her, but she pushed a button on her computer, and the cuffs on his wrist sent out an electric shock. Keith crashed awkwardly on the desk, twitching. Sanda leaned forward with a sardonic smile.

“Glad to have you back, Kogane.”

Xxx

Sanda walked down the hallway, her boots tapping on the metal floor. She opened the door to a lab and pulled a doctor aside. “Dr. Christoper?”

He snapped to attention. “Yes, Ma’am!”

“Come with me.”

He followed her down the hallways, bewildered. “Admiral?”

“Some time ago, you spoke with Commander Iverson about surgeries to retrieve organ and bone tissue.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Are you capable of performing those surgeries?”

“Um- yeeeeeess?”

“Yes or no, Doctor. Are you capable of performing the surgery?”

“Yes. I can do it. This isn’t hypothetical, is it, Ma’am?”

“No, Doctor, it is not. You can’t talk about this, do you understand? Not to your friend, not to the cashier at McDonalds, not to your dog. Got it?”

“Got it. Um—”

“Hold any questions, Doctor.”

She led him into a majorly-unused sector of the Garrison- not secret, but not anywhere that many people would have a reason to be. She took him down a long hallway and opened the door to an unused surgery room.

“We’ve got him under anesthesia, and we’ve acquired the necessary equipment.”

Dr. Christopher gulped, staring at the medical table where Kogane was lying, a mask that pumped anesthesia strapped over his face. “That- that’s the cadet. The one who died in a hoverbike crash. The one…” his eyes widened. “The one that Iverson wanted X-rayed and cat scanned.”

“Correct, Doctor. Are you sure that you can do this?”

He gulped. “You have the permission of his guardian? Or his permission?”

“ _Doctor_.”

“I’ve got to cover my legal bases! If he isn’t allowed to—”

“The Garrison is acting as his guardian, and I have given permission. Would you like me to find someone else to take your job?” Her tone implied that if he didn’t agree, he’d be thrown from the Garrison entirely.

He shook his head. “No. No, I can do it.”

“Good.” Sanda sat down, nodding to a med-tech suit in the corner. “Start.”

“What, just like that?”

She inclined her head. “Just like that.”

Xxx

Jenny paced the outside of a hallway, waiting, waiting… Keith could’ve thrown blame on her. He could’ve stayed quiet. But now he could be charged with extortion, and if that was the case, she wouldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t let him go down because he was protecting her.

Chris emerged from the hallway, pale and shaky. She blinked. “Chris?”

He jumped. “Oh! Jenny! Hi!”

Her brows drew together. “What were you doing down there?” Her eyes widened. “Keith’s down there, isn’t he?” She’d seen the admiral go down the hallway, but Keith hadn’t been with her.

“You knew,” Chris accused, “You knew that he was alive, and you hid him. You betrayed the Garrison. You- you’re a traitor, and—”

“What did you do to Keith?”

He didn’t answer, blinking owlishly at her. “I’m doing my job, Jenny, I swore an oath to the Garrison, and I’ve got to uphold that oath—”

Jenny seized him by the lapels. “What did you do to him?!”

“He’s okay, Jenny, I swear, he’s alive, he’s not even hurt that bad—”

Jenny shoved Chris against the wall. “ _That bad?_! What did you do?!”

“It was just surgery, Jenny, I swear it wasn’t anything bad! He’ll be right back to normal in a couple of weeks! Why do you care?! Didn’t he hold you up with a knife?!

Jenny looked away.

“Why are you protecting him, Jenny? Is the friendship of a dead man really worth so much to you?!”

“I’m not doing this for Takashi. I would’ve done it even if Takashi and I hadn’t been friends. Because I, unlike you, have a heart.”

Chris quaked in her grip. “Jenny, it’s my job, my oath, I couldn’t disobey the admiral, and just telling you this much is probably putting my job on the line—”

Jenny gave him a shake. “You’re pathetic,” she growled, and released him.

Chris scurried away, sending her fearful glances on his way down the hallway. Jenny looked down the hallway where Keith was, her hands clenching into fists. She couldn’t do anything to help him, not right now, not if he’d just had surgery- it wouldn’t be safe for Keith, and could actually _kill_ him.

 _I’m sorry, Keith_.

Xxx

Keith curled his knees up to his chest inside of the small cell-like room he’d been locked in. His nose hurt, for some reason. He traced a few long, bumpy lines that stretched across his abdomen and breastbone. Bile rose up in his throat. Someone had cut him open. Someone had been- had been poking around in his intestines. Had messed around near his heart.

Keith shuddered. Someone had stood over him while he was unconscious and held a knife up to him, while he had _no idea_ what was happening to him. They’d _cut into him_ , and he hadn’t had a _clue_ what was happening. Keith’s stomach rebelled at the thought of someone _touching_ him and putting metal tweezers or scissors or needles _into him_ , under his skin and bones, and _touching_ his organs.

Every horror story Keith had ever heard about surgeons leaving pins or forceps in a patient on accident flashed through his mind, and a wave of dizzy emotions swept over him, making his stomach feel worse.

Keith put a hand to his stomach, pushing back the nausea and the sharp sense of _violation_. He had to think. Had to plan. Had to figure a way out.

But he remembered- remembered the fight, the struggle as Admiral Sanda forced a mask over his face, and then nothing, until he was groggily waking up, someone with a familiar voice in a med tech suit that obscured his face checking his vitals and asking him questions to make sure that he was awake, before turning to Sanda and saying something that Keith couldn’t remember- no, wait, it had been about how he’d gotten a sample of brain tissue, by- Keith fought back another wave of nausea. It had been by sticking a probe up his nose. Keith rubbed his sore nose. That was that explained, he supposed. Then it hit him.

It had been Dr. Chris. Dr. Chris’ voice coming out of that faceless mask, out of that death suit. And that somehow made it better and worse at the same time.

Better because Dr. Chris was Dr. Jenny’s friend, and if he was friends with Dr. Jenny then he probably wouldn’t hurt Keith much, right?

But worse, because that meant that somehow, someone who was friends with warm, concerned Dr. Jenny, could do that, could cold-heartedly just cut Keith open, would obey every order Admiral Sanda had given.

Keith traced the neatly-sewed up lines again. He’d have scars, which would be fine if he’d fallen and scraped himself up, but these weren’t from an accident. These had been _put_ there, pushed on him by someone else, without Keith even knowing what had happened.

And they could do it again, he realized with mounting horror, Admiral Sanda could come in with another mask, or with a Taser, and they could cut him open as many times as they liked, could  _kill_ him, even. Keith shuddered again, pressing one arm against his sore stomach.

 _Stars_ , he wanted to _get out_ , to get away, back to the desert, where they couldn’t find him. Where they would _never_ find him. And if they did, things would be different. Keith would have his knife, and his hoverbike would be nearby for a quick escape.

 _His hoverbike_. He’d left it parked outside the city. The sand might cover it- or it might get towed, if a policeman found it.

Keith nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. Worrying that someone might tow his hoverbike, when he clearly had much, _much_ bigger problems.

Keith pushed himself up, wobbling slightly on his feet, and made his way to the door. The hinges were on the other side. So, that was the possibility of using something to unscrew the hinges gone.

Could he attack Sanda?

The memory of the last time he’d tried that, only to come crashing down, jolting with electricity, quickly quelled that idea.

What if he pretended to be sick?

Sanda wouldn’t care.

What if he pretended that he was _dying_?

Now, _there_ was an idea. Sanda might actually open the door to check on him if she thought that he was _dying_.

He could act like Dr. Chris had left a pair of forceps in him, and it was tearing up his insides, and-

No. No, that would just lead to being on the operation table again, with that mask strapped over his face, and a nameless, faceless surgeon (because surely they wouldn’t use Dr. Chris again if he was the one to have left the forceps in Keith in the first place) hovering over him with a knife.

Keith’s stomach growled, the pancakes he’d had this morning a distant memory. He tapped absentmindedly on the cell wall. There would be a way out. He just had to find it.

Xxx

Admiral Sanda tapped her foot impatiently, making the doctor running tests on Kogane’s bone and organ tissue increasingly nervous.

“A-Admiral?”

“What?”

“Um- these samples, they- they’re completely normal. A little tougher than average, and the bone tissue is thicker and sturdier, but not unnaturally so.”

Sanda kept back a curse. Either Kogane took mostly after his human father, or these creatures were incredibly similar to humans. And of course, they couldn’t know the answer to that unless they had more samples.

Admiral Sanda tapped her way back to her office. She had other tests in mind, but Dr. Christopher had convinced her that it would be dangerous to Kogane’s health to try anything this soon after the surgery. He’d also convinced her that it would be dangerous to try anything with the brain this close to the other surgeries.

She regretted using that spineless doctor.

Xxx

Keith didn’t have a way to track time, and it was _killing_ him. He settled for counting, counting to sixty and then keeping track on his fingers how many minutes went by.

That didn’t last long. In fact, it only lasted about five minutes, by his counting.

He couldn’t be sure how long he’d been down here, at all. It could have been _days_ for all he knew- and his stomach clenched at the thought.

Had Sanda forgotten about him? Had she gotten what she wanted and was going to leave him here to rot in a tiny cell?

No. Sanda was too curious. She’d _never_ leave him alone, she’d never stop until… Keith rubbed his nose. Would she _ever_ stop? Would she ever be satisfied?

She’d use him up. She’d keep testing, and taking samples and- and shoving probes up his nose until there was nothing left to test.

Keith looked around the walls. _I have **got** to get out of here_.


	11. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In answer to the popular question during Blood and Genetics: Doesn't Keith burn purple?

_Fired. Insubordination_.

Jenny mouthed the words to herself, reading them off of the notice in her office. It had taken a week, but here it was. Fired. Leaving the Garrison. No, being _thrown_ from the Garrison, all because she dared help someone in need.

 _Who’s going to help Keith now_?

 _I’m sorry, I really am. I should’ve gotten you out before this happened. I shouldn’t have waited- the risk would have been worth it_.

_I’m sorry, Keith. I should have done more._

Xxx

“Iverson.”

Commander Iverson looked up as Admiral Sanda entered his office and snapped to attention—if it was a bit less respectful than usual, well, who would be able to tell? “Admiral.”

“Walk with me.”

Iverson followed her down the hallways. “Ma’am?”

“Two weeks ago, you were sent on a search and retrieve mission for ex-cadet Keith Kogane. You came back with a report that he was dead.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Right, well, then. Perhaps you can explain why we found him _very much alive_ in Doctor Jennifer Orla’s house?!”

 _Cadet! What were you thinking_?! “I cannot explain, Admiral.”

“You’re lucky you’re such a good commander,” Sanda growled as they entered a mostly-unused hallway that now had a few scientists and guards scurrying around, “Otherwise, I’d have you transferred or maybe even discharged.” She nodded to a window.

Iverson peered in, and his heart sank. He’d hoped that maybe Sanda was angry because Kogane had gotten away. No such luck. There he was, hooked up to a treadmill, jogging at a fast pace.

“He has a lot more stamina than we expected,” Sanda remarked calmly.

Iverson took another look and saw that Keith was panting heavily, sweat soaking through his shirt and plastering his hair to his face and neck, his eyes wild with exhaustion. He was favoring his left leg, and Iverson wondered how he was still standing on his injured ankle. “How long have you had him running?”

Sanda looked at her watch. “We’d be near the end of the third day, now.”

“Three _days_?! Have you let him have a break?”

“No, Commander. That’s the point. I want to see how long he can go on.”

“Food? Water?”

“Not since day one.”

“You’re going to kill him! Running for three days straight at that pace is a human maximum _with_ food and water!” Iverson frowned. “What happens if he just stops? Refuses to run?”

“We had a problem with that on the first day.” Admiral Sanda remote-controlled the treadmill to go up a speed suddenly. Keith stumbled, and the line connecting him to the treadmill sparked with electricity, giving Keith a small electric shock. Keith gripped the handrails of the treadmill tightly as he regained his balance, his feet thumping back into a pattern on the treadmill. He released the handrail, his chest heaving with exertion.

“Incidentally,” Sanda said thoughtfully, “We learned that electricity burns him purple.”

Iverson watched in horror. “You know he has asthma? You’re going to set him off, pushing him like this!”

Sanda nodded. “Look at his eyes.”

Iverson did. They were yellow, the irises snakelike and the pupils slit. “What about them?”

“I think that his inhuman genetics are giving him some kind of… boost, I suppose, now that his life depends on it, and his human side should have failed.”

“With all due respect, Admiral, this is inhumane!”

“And he’s not human. His people declared war the instant they destroyed our mission and killed three of our men. War doesn’t allow for the luxury of morals, Commander.”

“You can’t push him like this!”

Sanda raised one eyebrow. “Can’t I?” she asked in a warning tone.

Iverson decided to take a different track. “It’s dangerous to put him through this. You could potentially kill him, the only one of his kind that we have. Not to mention the possibility that if his race comes down to Earth at any point, they might be more friendly if one of their own puts in a good word. However, if they come and find out how you treated him- they might seek revenge.”

“His mother abandoned him,” Sanda said dismissively, “I don’t think that they care much for their offspring.”

Inside, Keith faltered, swaying on his feet, and fell, crashing down on the treadmill, which stopped and slowed. The electric line shocked him repeatedly, but he didn’t get up, only twitched on the other end.

“Sanda, unhook him.”

“He could be faking.”

“Admiral, he’s passed out!”

Iverson opened the door and ripped the electrical cord off of Keith. His chest was heaving, and his eyes were flicking around underneath his closed eyelids. “Cadet?”

Keith didn’t respond. He was well and truly exhausted, dehydrated, and starving. He was completely unconscious. Sanda marched in behind Iverson, checking her watch again. “Three days, then. Good to know. They’re a tough, hardy race.”

“He’s just a boy,” Iverson growled.

Sanda frowned. “You’re right.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “We don’t know when they might hit their full growth- how long do you suppose an average adult would last?” She glanced down at Keith’s unconscious form and pressed a page button. A guard came in and grabbed Keith by his arms, dragging him out of the room and down the hallway.

Sanda shrugged. “You may have an unfortunate amount of morals, Commander, but I know that in the end, you’ll do what it takes to protect Earth. And that’s why I wanted to show you this.”

Iverson looked at her. She was lying. This was a test. To see what he would do. She’d be watching his every move from here on out. He’d have to watch every step he made. He was on thin ice, and one wrong step could send him- and Kogane- into frigid, deadly water.

Xxx

Keith curled up with his back to the wall, watching the door with eyes drooping with exhaustion. He’d only woken up a few minutes ago, but he didn’t know how long he’d been passed out for, and he’d lost track of time again. At least on that stars-forsaken treadmill, he’d known how much time had passed.

Seventy-two hours. Seventy-two hours on that treadmill, plodding away, knowing that there wasn’t an end- that it would only end when he stopped, but knowing that stopping would bring pain, would bring jolts of electricity burning his chest and sending spasms through his body.

Keith let out a shuddering breath, his throat dry. Seventy-two hours. Three days. Three days without food, water, or even a chance to breathe. Just running. Endless running, running that could not stop, because if it did, he’d be in even more pain.

Iverson had been there. Iverson, talking to Sanda. Keith didn’t remember much- he remembered the blinking _seventy-two_ on the stopwatch, and he remembered falling, knowing that it would hurt and then feeling nothing, only hearing hazy voices somewhere outside of the darkness. Incomprehensible words, floating outside of his vision.

Keith’s eyelids started to droop shut, the exhaustion threatening to plunge him into darkness again. He wanted it- he wanted to go to sleep, to just let it fade away.

Footsteps tapped down the hall towards his little cell, and he snapped back awake. Sanda’s goon had caught him sleeping last time- had managed to haul him to the treadmill and get him hooked up before he even realized what was happening. He wasn’t going to be caught sleeping again.

It was Iverson’s face that came into view, though, not the guard, and he was holding—Keith’s throat ached—water. Two normal, plastic water bottles, but in that minute, they looked more precious than gold to Keith. Iverson stopped in front of the door.

“You passed out about an hour ago.” Keith had no idea if Iverson knew how much that simple revelation of time meant to him, but he felt a deep relief in his chest. Only an hour. He hadn’t lost too much time. Iverson put one hand on the locked door. “You’ve got to promise not to make a break for it if I open the door.”

Keith said nothing.

“Cadet, if you run, all it will do is get me in trouble. You won’t escape. Do you swear not to run if I open this door?”

Keith nodded. He didn’t think he could managed more than a croak for words. Iverson took it as well as if he’d promised out loud, and opened the door just a little, rolling one of the water bottles across the floor to Keith. It stopped halfway between the door and him, just out of reach.

Keith pushed himself up using the wall and took a shaky step. His muscles screamed at him and cramped, shaking and falling beneath him. Keith fell in an undignified heap with a gasp, rubbing his legs.

“Ah—Ah—Ah—” Keith winced as his throat cracked, joining his legs in their misery. He’d managed to get close enough to the water bottle to grab it, though, and he retreated against the wall, his fingers shaking and struggling to unscrew the cap of the bottle. He did get it open, though, and he guzzled the water.

Iverson made a warning noise. “Wait- not so fast—”

Too late. Keith’s stomach cramped at the sudden influx of water, and he retched, his stomach rejecting what it now regarded as foreign. He retched again, involuntary tears rolling down his cheeks.

 _Stars- stars- please_ -

The water came back up, and he retched it all over the floor, his shoulders shaking and the tears still rolling down his cheeks- although how his body had enough water for tears, he didn’t know.

He gasped, his shoulders heaving, and he leaned back against the wall, panting and holding his cramping stomach.

“Little sips,” Iverson advised, and Keith’s shaking hand reached for the water again, following Iverson’s instructions and resisting the urge to start gulping it again. His dry throat swallowed eagerly, and his stomach settled, no longer cramping and threatening to reject everything.

Iverson opened the door again and set the other bottle of water inside. “I don’t know when or if I can come back, so be careful with that.”

Keith nodded both his understanding and thanks, and then Iverson was gone, his boots tapping their pattern and echoing down the hallway, leaving him alone. He screwed the top back on the water bottle, despite wanting to drink it all, and curled on his side, still facing the door. His fingers went instinctively to his bracelet, the one thing they hadn’t taken away when they’d put him in the pajama-like linen clothes and taken away his jacket.

His eyes drooped shut, and finally, finally, he fell asleep.

When he woke up again, it was because the door was opening, and a guard was coming in, telling him to get up. Keith stretched his shaky legs. He didn’t think that he _could_. Then the guard was pulling him up, telling him to _start walking_.

Keith’s legs shook and gave out, and he fell to his knees, his arm still in the grip of the guard. “I can’t,” he rasped, throat still dry from lack of water.

“Get _up_. The admiral isn’t going to come here.”

 _Yeah, taking me to the admiral. That’s **great** incentive for me to get up and move_.

“I can’t,” he repeated.

He was dragged up again, and again, his legs wouldn’t hold his weight. This time, the guard let go, and Keith fell down to his hands and knees, wincing as his palms rubbed across cold metal.

The guard called for help and another guard came in. Each one of them took one of Keith’s arms and they dragged him upright, pulling him down the hallway, his feet dragging on the floor.

He was thrown into an office, and he fell, barely catching himself from faceplanting on the floor.

“You’ll stand at attention when I’m here,” Sanda said coldly.

“Sure would if I could _stand_ ,” Keith snapped, “If you want me to stand at attention, don’t make me run for _three days straight_.”

He and Sanda locked in a glaring contest—the effect of which was ruined by the fact that Keith was on the floor and had to look up at her.

Sanda kept glaring. “I asked you if you wanted to make this hard for you or easy for you. I can see that you’re still choosing the hard way.”

“You wouldn’t let me have it easy even if I behaved,” Keith shot back, “I might as well make it difficult for you, too.”

“If you’re that determined, then.” Sanda clicked her fingers, and the guards came back in, taking his arms again. “He picked it,” she said coldly.

 Keith could’ve _sworn_ he felt a flinch from one of the guards, but he couldn’t tell for sure. “What’s happening? What did I pick?”

“The hard way,” Sanda told him.

The guards dragged him down the hall to a different room and pushed him into a chair, locking restraints across his wrists, arms, and chest. Keith thrashed against them.

“What are you doing?!”

There was a buzzing noise behind him, and Keith strained against the restraints. “What’s that?”

The buzzing got louder, and then—

The hair at the back of Keith’s neck fell away. The hard way… was a haircut? Keith would have laughed if he weren’t so confused.

Then there was a pinch at the base of his neck, right where the skull met his spine, and Keith felt a cold weight attach itself. The restraints unlocked, and Keith reached for the back of his head.

“What did you—”

His fingers brushed something metal, and he grabbed it, trying to pull it off of his head. One of the guards made a warning noise, but it was too late. Keith gave a tug, and an electric shock jolted through his spine and head.

“It connects to your temporal lobe,” the guard who _hadn’t_ flinched told him, “Try to take it off, and it’ll send an electric shock. If you leave your cell without Sanda turning it off, you’ll get a continuous shock until you’re back inside. That’s the hard way.”

Keith blinked up at him, only half-comprehending the words. Temporal lobe… they’d learned about that in anatomy… but he hadn’t been paying enough attention to remember what it did… something about sensory input.

The guards grabbed his arms and dragged him back to the cell. There was a barely audible beep from the thing on the back of his head, and he knew that it was on. That it was active. That he’d suffer if he left.

The guards left, and Keith’s hand went to the device. He gritted his teeth and started pulling. His hand dropped away as another shock jolted him.

“I wouldn’t advise that,” Admiral Sanda told him as she clicked by, “You won’t be able to hold onto it long enough to pull it off, and it’ll only hurt.

Keith let his head thump against the cell wall. She’d done it. She’d ensured that he physically _couldn’t_ leave. He rubbed the shorn part of his head, weirded out by the lack of hair. There wasn’t a way out anymore, at least none that he could see.

One of the guards glanced in at him- the one who had flinched. Keith looked up at him, hoping beyond hope- but he walked away, repeating to himself like a mantra, “He’s not human.”

Keith sighed. Right. Wasn’t human. That was the only way that they could convince themselves that this wasn’t wrong. Because he wasn’t human. He was—he didn’t _know_ what. Did they think did themselves that he was just an alien? Or that he was an animal?

 _Just an animal, locked in a cage. Shock-collared, just like a dog_.

 _Trapped_.


	12. Received

Keith glared defiantly at Admiral Sanda when she entered his cell, Iverson behind her. Stupid electricity knob wasn’t going to make him any less defiant.

“Up.”

Keith forced himself to stand, his legs still shaky, but capable of supporting his weight.

Sanda clicked a button on a remote, and the electricity discharger on his neck bleeped once to tell him that it was disarmed. “Come on.”

Keith kept glaring, and crossed his arms. “No.”

“You will obey when I command! Up!”

Keith lunged forward and knocked the remote out of her hand, bringing his heel down on it and crushing it. “No!”

Sanda whipped out some stick thing that cackled with electricity. Keith eyed it cautiously, taking a step back. He didn’t want to tangle with that.

Xxx

Iverson watched impassively as Keith crushed the remote. Sanda could get another one, of course, but for now, the punishment device was disarmed- he must have planned that, to destroy the remote after the device wouldn't hurt him for leaving the cell.

Sanda advanced on Keith with her stick, and he backed up. She struck quickly, though, and it hit him right in the ribs.

Keith dropped to the ground, one arm pressed tightly to his ribcage. Sanda hovered over him with a glare. “Are you ready to obey?”

Keith looked up at her, and Iverson saw absolute hatred burning in his eyes. He stepped out of the doorway as Keith rammed his shoulder into Sanda’s stomach, pushing her out of the cell and right into the wall with a _crunch_. Then he ran down the hallway. Iverson caught him by the collar, and Keith’s fist swung around into his eye. It was uncoordinated, and didn’t hurt that much, but Sanda didn’t need to know that. Iverson released Keith, and he bounded away.

But Sanda wasn’t done yet. She threw her electric stick like a javelin, and it slammed into Keith’s legs as he ran, and he fell to the ground, his feet twitching.

Xxx

Keith yelped as he fell, instinctively curling his legs up towards his chest.

 _Come on, no, no, so **close**_!

Sanda scooped up her electric stick, and it jabbed him in the leg, making his muscles spasm again. “What did you think that would accomplish, hm?” She jabbed him again. “Answer.”

Keith curled into fetal position to protect himself, but the stick came to push him in the back, making him jolt back out as an electric shock tingled down his spine.

“Well?”

Jab. In the stomach.

“Surely you didn’t think that you could escape.”

Jab. Right in the ribs. Keith gasped for air. “Stop—” he hated himself for this, hated himself for pleading with Sanda, hated himself for being helpless, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it, could only hope for it to stop. His fingers desperately, spastically, double clicked his bracelet charm.

 _Somebody… anybody… please_ …

Xxx

Shiro screamed as the medical saw started to cut down into his skin, slicing effortlessly through muscle. Something was shoved in his mouth, and he bit down on it, _hard_ , whimpering as he watched his arm get taken away, probably to the trash heap. His vision started flickering to black, and as if from a long way off, he heard his watch beep. He forced his eyes open to see an alert.

Keith was in trouble.

 _Have… have to… get… out… have to… he’s having an attack… I’ve got to find him, I’ve got to… got to help_ …

Shiro’s eyes slid closed, the doctors and Haggar talking somewhere outside of his comprehension, talking about nerves and weapons.

 _Keith… hold on… hold on... for me… stay strong_...

Xxx

Iverson caught up to Sanda and Keith and put one hand on Admiral Sanda’s arm, tugging it away as she impassively pushed the electrical stick into Kogane’s chest, not lifting it, just watching him scream. That was the worst part. That she wasn’t doing this out of anger, or even sadistic pleasure—she was just… _doing_ it. Coldly. Methodically.

“That’s enough.”

“Is it, Commander?”

Iverson felt a bead of sweat drip down the back of his neck. He was testing it. Putting more weight on the ice. Pushing his bounds.

“He’s had enough.”

On the ground, Keith shuddered, and Iverson heard a muffled sob. Sanda’s eybrows shot up in surprise.

“So, he _can_ cry.”

She nudged him with the stick again, and he howled. “Please,” he sobbed, “Please, stop- stop it- _please_ —”

Iverson could see tears of desperation in his eyes, and those eyes were fixed on the stick, watching it, waiting for it to jolt him again.

“Please, _Ma’am_ ,” Sanda said coldly.

Keith swallowed as if something was stuck in his throat. “P-Please, Ma’am,” he whispered, drooping.

Sanda turned off the stick. “Very well.”

Iverson tapped Sanda on the shoulder. “Admiral, may I speak to you?”

She glanced down at Keith.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Iverson assured her.

“Fine.”

They walked down the hallway, and Iverson turned towards Sanda. “You can’t keep pushing his limits like this. You’re going to kill him!”

“I’m not going to kill him. And if he weren’t so stubbornly proud, things like this wouldn’t happen.

 _You mean if he weren’t so human_ , Iverson thought mutinously. Keith hadn’t done anything that any other human wouldn’t have done in his place—escaping was natural, and so was rebelling against Sanda—and Keith was a typical headstrong teenager, so his reactions were even more natural.

Sanda tapped her thigh with the deactivated electricity stick. “He’ll be more compliant, now, I think. Broken in.”

Iverson’s stomach turned over. _Broken in_. Like Kogane was a horse, or some other kind of animal that needed to have its spirit broken.

“Ma’am—”

“Commander, I understand your concern. What we’re doing here isn’t exactly the most ethical thing, and I understand that is causing you some distress.”

 _Understatement of the year_.

“However, what we’re doing here is _necessary_. It’s either one boy, or all of humanity, sacrificed to those aliens.”

“We don’t know—”

“They destroyed the Kerberos mission without a second thought. They’ll do it to the rest of our planet. But not if we know how to fight them.”

“Even _without_ the morality, there’s the _legality_ of all this—”

“As far as the outside world- and the other Garrison leaders- know, this isn’t happening. As far as they’re concerned, it can’t be happening at all. May I remind you, Commander, that Keith Kogane is legally dead? I believe you had a hand in that.”

Iverson felt his stomach clench. That was his fault. He hadn’t thought this would happen, of course, but it was still his fault that it _was_ happening.

He stopped dead in the hallway, and Admiral Sanda gave him a brisk nod. “Have a good rest of your day, Commander.”

Xxx

Keith curled into a ball as Sanda approached him. Why couldn’t she just _go away_?

“Get up.”

Keith shook his head, holding himself tighter. Then the electric buzzing noise sounded, and he snapped up, scrambling back away from Sanda’s stick.

“Get up.”

Keith used the wall to push himself up, his legs shaking. Sanda jerked her head to another room, and Keith edged past her, jumping when she pointed the stick at him. Inside was a table.

“Get on.”

_Operation table._

_A mask, sliding over his face._

_Someone standing over him with a knife_.

Keith shook his head, sliding away.

The electric stick buzzed louder. “On.”

Keith sat down on the table, eying the stick as Admiral Sanda approached him. “What- what are you going to do?”

“Lay down.”

“Is it surgery?”

Sanda brandished the stick, and he braced himself, but it was just her hand, pushing him down. And then thrusting a bar with massive weights on the end into his hands. He grunted as the weight settled onto him, and he strained to hold it up.

“What-?”

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Try not to drop that on yourself; it’s very heavy.”

“No- ah—”

Sanda left, and Keith’s head thudded to the table, focusing completely on holding the weight up and not letting it crush him, but _stars_ it was _heavy_!

His muscles spasmed, and it pushed down even harder on him. He panted, straining to hold up the massive weight.

“Hah- hah- okay- this is o- urgh.”

He didn’t know how long he was holding it up. He didn’t know how much time he had left before Admiral Sanda came back in to check on him. He _did_ know that he couldn’t hold up the weight any longer. His arms shook, and fell, and the weight came crashing down on his chest, knocking the breath out of him.

He gasped, and felt a familiar feeling of chest tightness creep up on him. _No- no, not now, not here- ah_ —

Keith wheezed in a breath, struggling to try and push the weight off of him.

 _It’s going to crush me- it’s going to keep pushing until my chest caves in- oh, stars- no_ — Keith’s vision started going spotty as his lungs screamed for air.

Keith heard the door open, and he felt the weight lifted from his chest. Someone was holding him in a sitting position, and breathing gradually got easier. He slumped forward, not caring where he was anymore.

Xxx

Iverson caught Kogane as he pitched forward, holding him by the shoulders. “Cadet?” there was no answer, save uneven, ragged breathing. Iverson hoisted him easily over his shoulder, wincing at how light he was.

Admiral Sanda was striding towards him. “Commander, what do you think you’re doing?”

Iverson managed an awkward salute. “Taking him back to his cell, Admiral.”

“Oh?”

“He’s unconscious.”

She frowned at him. “So quickly?”

“With all due respect, Admiral, you  _did_ electrocute him.”

“Yes…” she said thoughtfully.

“And it stands to reason that as he goes on without food—”

“Don’t push it, Commander. Take him back to his cell”

Iverson gave a short nod and carried Keith back to his cell, settling him gently on the ground. He could feel Admiral Sanda’s eyes on his back, watching him.

 _Sorry, cadet_.

Xxx

Griffin stared up at the ceiling, wide awake.

Something was broken. There was a tapping noise that just _kept on **going**_. He pushed his pillow over his ears, but the sound had drummed itself into his head, endlessly tapping.

Okay, looked like he wouldn’t get any sleep until he stopped the tapping. He slipped out of bed, opening the door as the guard passed and padding down the hallway, his feet bare. He followed the sound of the tapping, playing hot or cold with the noise.

Griffin frowned as he got closer. There was a definite pattern to the taps, repeating itself over and over. He snapped his fingers. Morse code. He’d done a project on the obsolete code back in middle school.

 _Tap, tap, tap_. A pause. _Knock, knock, knock_. Another pause. _Tap, tap, tap_.

S.

O.

S.

S.O.S. A distress call. Who would be in distress, though? Griffin peered around a corner and then came back around to flatten himself against the wall. A guard was coming up the hallway. His footsteps got closer and closer, and then receded. Griffin dared peek around the corner and saw that the guard had turned around to go back down the hallway.

Griffin frowned. That was odd. Normally the guards’ rounds went longer than one hallway. The S.O.S came through again, and Griffin’s frown deepened. Someone was locked up down there.

 _No, nope, not your problem, go back to bed. Last time you stuck your nose into something suspicious, you got punched a few times, and nobody listened to you_.

But what- or who- was the Garrison _hiding_? Griffin hated secrets. He wanted to _know_ things, and he hated when people hid things from him.

S.O.S.

 _Bad idea, bad idea- ooooooooo, I’m going to get in **so much** trouble for this, I can just **feel** i t_.

S.O.S.

Griffin put his hand to the wall, hoping his tapping and knocking would be loud enough to be heard and struggling to remember the letters he’d learned a long time ago.

 _Tap, knock, tap, pause. Tap, pause. Knock, tap, knock, tap, pause. Tap, pause. Tap, tap, pause. Tap, tap, tap, knock, pause. Tap, pause. Knock, tap, tap, pause_.

R.

E.

C.

E.

I.

V.

E.

D.

Received.

Griffin paused, then kept knocking. _Tap, knock, knock, pause. Tap, knock, pause. Tap, knock, tap, tap, pause. Tap, knock, tap, tap, pause._ He waited to give a space between words. _Knock, tap, knock, tap, pause. Knock, knock, knock, pause. Knock, knock, pause. Tap_.

Will come.

The knocking from the other person stopped, and Griffin ducked behind the wall again as the guard came back up the hallway. _I am **so** dead_.


	13. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four chapters in one day, let's GO, nerds!

Keith looked up blearily as Admiral Sanda entered the cell, her electricity stick buzzing angrily.

“Up.”

Keith forced himself to obey, swaying slightly on his feet, dizzy from lack of food. He’d drunk the last of his water, and he knew that it would only get worse from here on out.

But underneath the exhaustion and hunger pains, there was a glimmer of what might have been hope. Someone had heard him last night- or what he judged to be night, based on the lack of Sanda. Someone had responded. Someone was coming.

Either that, or Sanda had heard him and had coded a reply so that he would stop tapping. But he hoped it was the first one.

Sanda jerked her head towards the door, and Keith took a step to follow her, but then he was swaying and falling down, the ground rising to meet him. Sanda shot him a glare.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“S-Sorry,” he replied, pushing himself back up with trembling arms, his eyes never leaving that stick. He used the wall for balance and support, but a few times on the way, his legs gave out, and he had to haul himself back up quickly before Sanda turned around or realized that he wasn’t right behind her. But nothing was _working_ , and he was so _tired_.

Before he knew it, he’d fallen again, and he couldn’t get back up, no matter how hard he tried, but he could still see what was happening. He willed himself to move, to do _something_ , twitch his little finger, wiggle a toe, _anything_. But nothing responded.

“Kogane?” Admiral Sanda’s boots came into his vision, and he could sense her peering down at him. “Can you move?”

 _NO,_ Keith wanted to scream, _no, I can’t, I’m tired and hungry, and I **can’t move**_! But his mouth wouldn’t move, and his eyelids started to droop shut.

“Kogane?” A booted foot nudged him, but he didn’t feel it.

Keith was gone.

Xxx

“What do you think is wrong with him? He couldn’t even _move_.”

Iverson shrugged, looking in at Keith, unconscious in his cell. “His body is shutting down. He’s hungry. He can’t move because he didn’t have much fat in the first place, so his body is _literally_ eating his muscles to survive. He’s dehydrated. The average human can only go three or four days without water, and you’ve had him subsisting on a very small amount of water for, what, a week? Two weeks? His body physically _cannot handle that_ , and that’s under _normal_ conditions. His conditions have been anything _but_ normal. You’ve been pushing him physically, emotionally and mentally—”

“Mentally?”

“Solitary confinement. Not knowing what time it is. Not knowing when he can safely stop whatever you’re having him do. Just _one_ of those for any extended period of time can drive someone insane. The fact that he’s not a gibbering wreck…” Iverson shook his head. “It’s unprecedented.”

“I suppose I should call in a doctor.”

Iverson shrugged. “You can, but they’ll tell you the same thing that I’ve been telling you for days. He needs food, water, and a break. A chance to recover.”

Sanda raised an eyebrow. “And a clock, I suppose? So that he doesn’t turn into a gibbering wreck?”

“That would be good.”

“Should I also find him a friend?” Sanda asked sarcastically, “So that he doesn’t get lonely?”

Iverson wisely kept his trap shut.

“Commander, we’re looking at a future war. A future war where conditions that could _kill_ the average human apparently don’t have much effect.”

“You’re wrong on that.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh?”

Iverson nodded, pulling out a recording of a video conference with Coleen Holt. “Well, they’re tough,” she was saying, “but they’re also big, and their metabolism is faster, so- well, basically, they’re more vulnerable in some ways. With all of that mass, they need a lot to keep it going, and with that metabolism, they’d burn through their fuel pretty fast.”

Iverson cut the video. “Bottom line is, they’d starve or get dehydrated faster than we do. They’re tougher in a battle sense- they’d be hard to kill, and they’re probably better at hunting, but we have more stamina than they do. We could outlast them if it came down to our two species both having no food.”

Sanda nodded to Keith. “What about him, then? How is he managing to go beyond human norms?”

“I’m not a biologist. But if I had to guess, I’d say that he ended up with the best of both worlds- they’re stronger, but we have more stamina. He got both, and here we are. Your tests probably won’t give you an accurate account of the extraterrestrials, Sanda. They’ll only give you an accurate picture of Kogane as an individual.”

“Be that as it may, Commander, we don’t know that what you’re saying is right, and that’s not a chance I’m willing to take,” Sanda told him, “I’m not letting him go.”

Iverson nodded to the room where Keith lay. “Are you willing to take the chance that you’ll kill him with all of this? I know you haven’t been listening to me when I’ve been telling you that you’ll kill him, but look at him right now. Believe me, yet? If you keep this up, he’ll die, go crazy, or both.”

Sanda’s jaw clenched. “He can have a recovery day,” she said tightly.

“Food? Water?”

“Water, yes. I’ll think about the food.”

“I carried him back to his cell yesterday, Sanda. I could’ve counted ribs just from them pressing against my shoulder. He won’t be able to move much if his body is digesting his own muscles to keep him alive.”

“Fine. Go back to your other cadets, Commander. I’ll take care of it.”

Iverson gave a short nod and walked back down the hallway. It was the best he could do.

For now.

Xxx

Keith was shaking. He was shaking all over, and he couldn’t _stop_ , even though he wanted to stop. He couldn’t help it. His muscles just… spasmed, all over the place, making moving hard.

He pressed his arms against his stomach, tucking his head down in-between his knees. The door opened, and he lifted his head, his eyes blinking in utter surprise. The guard had water. Three bottles of water. The guard set them down, and Keith started calculating how long he could make them last- then decided he didn’t care and shakily unscrewed the cap of one, carefully sipping and making sure he didn’t drink it too fast.

Keith discovered that his eyes could still make tears, and he buried his face in his arms, unwilling to let the guard see him cry.

The guard left, and Keith’s shoulders started shaking. How long was he going to be here? How long before Sanda came back in with her electric stick? How long would it be before he just… died? Before he finally starved to death? He couldn’t survive on water alone.

He gasped in a breath. Crying wouldn’t help him. It wouldn’t help anyone, and he couldn’t waste water.

He looked at the water. He wouldn’t survive this. Not unless his mysterious Morse code buddy got him. At this point, he wasn’t sure he could even walk far enough to get out of the hallway.

Xxx

Admiral Sanda watched her test subject curl back up in a ball in his cell. She initiated another test, one that didn’t involve him going anywhere.

 _Recovery day in exercise just means that the workout isn’t as hard_.

Xxx

Keith shivered, rubbing his arms. Was he cold because he was hungry?

His breath puffed in little steam clouds in the air. No, it was _definitely_ getting colder. He shivered.

 _I should get up. Move around. Keep warm_.

Who was he kidding? He could barely move as it was. He might as well just sit here for all the good trying to move could do him.

 _I’ve heard that freezing to death is like… falling asleep_ …

Keith shook himself. No. No, he couldn’t die, not here. He had to keep going, keep surviving. If he died, Sanda won.

He wasn’t going to let Sanda win.

Xxx

Griffin stood at the edge of the hallway, his fingers starting a stopwatch as the guard clomped down the hallway. He waited, waited, waited… the guard reemerged, and Griffin stopped the watch. Four minutes. That meant that it was about two minutes before he turned around again.

Griffin ran another trial, just to be certain, and nodded. About two minutes, then. Once the guard had his back turned, and had been gone for about thirty seconds, Griffin darted down the hallway, ducking into a room as the guard hit the two minute mark. He looked around. It looked like a room for medical supplies. He looked at a table, and stumbled back with a stifled scream.

There was blood on the table.

 _Is that sanitary? Is that allowed? How long has it been since this hallway was **used**_?!

The guard passed by, and Griffin waited another thirty seconds before continuing down the hallway. Most of the doors were open, and he ignored them. But then- then there was a closed room.

Griffin unlocked and opened the door and slipped inside, hissing.

“Stars, it’s _freezing_ in here!”

He looked around, and stifled another scream. “You’re supposed to be dead!”

Keith didn’t say anything, the only indicator that he _wasn’t_ dead the puff of steam that came from his mouth. Griffin stamped his feet, rubbing his arms.

“What are you doing _here_? Are you the very mysterious Morse code prisoner?”

Keith still didn’t respond, only shivered, and Griffin sighed. “Right, well, let’s get you out of here. Stars, how long have you been down here? It’s like a meat locker in here! How are you alive?! No, don’t answer, you probably can’t.”

Griffin hauled Keith up, slinging one of his arms over his shoulder. He was a lot lighter than Griffin had expected- and come to think of it, he looked a lot skinnier than the last time Griffin had seen him, too.

Griffin waited for the guard to pass, and then started to drag Keith out of the cell. Keith let out a scream, twitching and generally making himself hard to hold onto.

Griffin dragged him back into the cell, shuddering and twitching. “What’s _wrong_ with you?!” he whispered, “Do you _want_ to stay here?!”

Keith shuddered, and Griffin flipped him over. He frowned. What was that metal thing on the back of Keith’s neck? He reached for it, but Keith twisted in his grasp.

“No,” he panted, “Don’t touch it.” The words seemed to take all of his energy, and he sagged in Griffin’s grip.

“This thing is why you can’t leave?” Keith’s silence spoke a lot. “Right, then. I need you to be quiet and hold still.

Griffin wrapped his hand around the knob and frowned. Was this thing… _under Keith’s skin_? He shoved what short nails he had into the space where the metal met skin, and took in a deep breath.

“I’m pulling this thing out on three. One… two… three!” Griffin jerked his hand up, his fingernails prying the device out. Keith gave one short scream, and then went limp in Griffin’s grasp. Griffin dropped the device on the ground, then dived to the wall with the door, pressing himself against it so that when the guard looked in, all he could see was Keith, limp on the ground. He shrugged and moved on.

Griffin released the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, then dropped down next to Keith.

“Stars, no, please don’t tell me that I killed you, please be alive—”

A puff of white steam emerged slowly from Keith’s mouth, and Griffin let out a sigh of relief, pulling Keith back up. Keith’s head lolled to the side, and his feet dragged on the ground. Griffin winced as Keith’s ribs dug into his side. Why were his ribs showing that much?!

Griffin bolted down the hallway, taking cover in another room as the guard turned around and passed by. Thirty seconds. Dash to the next room, hauling Keith’s deadweight with him. Wait for the guard to pass. Repeat.

Xxx

Iverson sipped coffee, watching security feed in their main room. All of the feeds came to this room before they went to any other computer that had camera access, and it took at least ten people at a time manning it. He was just here because he felt like it, and because his presence seemed to make everyone work harder out of fear.

A glimmer of movement on one of the feeds caught his attention, and he frowned, peering at it. There it was again. Down the hallway where Sanda was keeping Kogane. He watched someone dart down the hallway, and he peered closer. That was one of his cadets- James Griffin. And he—

Iverson grinned to himself. Well, then. He glanced at the person who was supposed to be monitoring the feed. Asleep, a big thermos of coffee open next to his hand. Iverson nodded. Right. This could work.

“Hey!” he barked, “Wake up!”

The man startled awake, his hand flying into his coffee and spilling it all over the computer. The whole thing sparked and made spitting noises, shutting down. Everyone was staring at them now.

“You idiot! Look what you’ve done!”

The man stammered apologies, trying to soak up the spilled coffee and salvage the computer. Iverson stormed off, smiling on the inside.

It wouldn’t destroy the feed completely. They might still be able to salvage some of it, and that was a whole other can of worms. Iverson had an idea for that, a vague plan forming in his mind. _He_ couldn’t erase the feed, clean the two fleeing teenagers from the records, but he was fairly certain that there was someone out there who could.

He had only bought time.

But time was a valuable resource.

He hadn’t thought that James Griffin would be the one to come to Keith’s rescue. He’d always thought that maybe, some way, somehow, he could be the one to get the cadet out. But apparently, he was only the sidekick in someone else’s story.

He let a small grin creep on his face at the thought of Sanda’s face when she found out, a grin that faded slightly at the thought of the poor guard who would have hell to pay for this.

But it only faded slightly. That guard had stood by and watched Sanda, had helped Sanda torture a seventeen-year-old,

_So did you._

_You also stood by and watched._

_I protested!_

_But you did nothing to stop it_.

Iverson made his way back to his barracks.

_I broke my oath to the Garrison._

_But I kept my conscience_.

Iverson sat down at his desk with a sigh, looking through James Griffin’s file. No infractions, except for a couple of fights he’d started with Keith.

Perfect. No one would suspect _him_ to be the one to have broken curfew to sneak into an unused hallway to rescue someone he clearly didn’t like. Iverson leaned back in his chair.

 _Run, Cadet_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today was supposed to be a day to balance studying and then maybe do some writing.
> 
> Fanfiction, four.  
> Studying, zero.


	14. Eyes in the Walls

Keith blinked blearily up at the ceiling. Where was he? It was soft. And, he realized with a start of relief glimmering under his skin, warm.

Was this a trick? Another test of Sanda? Or a way to get him to let his guard down? He turned his head to the side and saw a glowing computer screen, someone asleep in a chair in front of it, like they’d fallen asleep looking at the screen.

A scientist? Keith decided he didn’t care. He was warm. He was tired. He wanted to go back to sleep.

And, he hoped, no one was going to stop him.

Xxx

Griffin stretched and yawned at his desk, blinking up at his computer screen. What time was it? He caught sight of the date and shrugged. Never mind. It was a Saturday.

He looked back at his guest, who was snoring peacefully. “Man, you’re _wiped_. What _happened_ to you?” Keith predictably didn’t answer.

An alarm went off, and Keith started awake, thrashing in Griffin’s bed with a yelp, his legs tangled up in the blanket.

Griffin rolled his chair towards the bed. “Whoa! Whoa, calm down!”

 _All students on lockdown_ the P.A. intoned, _this is not a drill- stay in your rooms or move towards them. I repeat, this is not a drill_.

Griffin shrugged. “I guess they figured out that you’re gone.” He glanced at Keith, who was watching him warily, his purple eyes narrowed. “Keith? Do you know who I am?”

Keith frowned, and Griffin could see the struggle to remember in his eyes. Then he scowled. “Jerk,” he muttered hoarsely.

“Okay, that’s fair. Do you know my name?”

A brief look of confusion. “Um... Griffin?”

“Yeah, okay, that’s me- um... hold on.” Griffin pulled up a picture of Shirogane on his computer.

Keith’s expression lit up. “Shiro!”

“Yeah, okay...” Griffin clicked on their school photo and zoomed in on a face. It was Lance. “How about him?”

Keith’s face settled back into a confused frown. “No...”

Griffin frowned. Okay, maybe he didn’t know Lance very well. He was in cargo- well, he’d been bumped to fighter class, but maybe Keith had forgotten him. Or something. He pulled up Katie’s profile picture. “How about her?”

“No...”

Griffin found a picture of Dr. Jenny. He should know this one. “Her?”

Keith’s brow scrunched up, as if he could almost place her, but wasn’t quite there. “No...” His gaze turned suspicious, watching Griffin like a hawk, like he was unsure if this was an important test, but he was also slightly glazed, like he wanted to go to sleep.

“Alright, alright.” Griffin rolled back to his computer, giving Keith space. His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

 _What part of the brain controls facial recognition_?

The computer pinged. The temporal lobe. “Hey, Keith,” Griffin called over his shoulder, “Do you know what that thing on the back of your neck connected to?”

Keith didn’t answer. He was asleep again. Griffin frowned. Was that… normal? Granted, maybe the alarm going off had woken him up sooner than he would’ve liked, but dropping off that fast…

The signal that ended lockdown pinged off, and Griffin left, locking his door. He needed breakfast.

He was pretty sure Keith needed it too.

At the mess hall, he felt _sure_ that every single eye of the guards was fixed on him, that everyone was _staring_ at him and they all _knew_. How could they not? There was no way that he’d avoided the security cameras, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how ill-thought out his plan had been. He’d avoided the guard, but hadn’t given a single thought to the cameras that would be recording the whole thing.

Suddenly his appetite was gone, and he pushed his plate away. He took a bowl of oatmeal though, hiding it precariously in his bag.

 _Stars, if this spills all over my homework_ …

Griffin edged past the mess hall guards, sure that they could somehow smell the food he was smuggling out. They didn’t stop him, though, and he let put a sigh of relief once he was out of the mess hall, practically bolting down the hallway back to his room before anyone noticed that he’d brought his backpack into the mess hall on a Saturday.

The door slid open for him, and Keith startled awake, watching him with those eerie violet eyes. Griffin unzipped his backpack and pulled out the bowl, thanking whatever god was out there that had decided none of it would spill.

“I have food,” he said, maybe unnecessarily, and Keith’s eyes snapped to the bowl. “I mean- it’s just oatmeal, because every internet article ever agreed that it would be a bad idea to give you solid food, but…” he trailed off. The way that Keith’s eyes stayed fixed on the bowl with a single-minded attention almost made him laugh. Almost.

But it was too depressing to actually be funny.

Griffin set it down carefully on the bedside counter and edged away from Keith’s creepy purple gaze. He went back to his computer, clicking on the messaging app. Katie hadn’t responded to his fourteen messages.

 _Where are you_?

Xxx

Katie trailed behind her mother and Iverson, who were discussing the Garrison’s Pau Brasil tree. She yawned. She got that plants and biology and whatnot were important, but why was _she_ here? She was fifteen- old enough to stay in the house by herself.

She spotted the hallway that led to the commanding officer’s offices, and she glanced at the adults before sliding away and slipping into Iverson’s office. The lights were off, and she made right for the computer, only taking a minute to hack her way in, her fingers dancing over the keys.

A file labeled _Keith Kogane_ caught her attention, and she clicked on it, sure that it was just a copy of his genetics, but…

Her eyes widened. This wasn’t about his genetics. No wonder he hadn’t been responding to her emails. Katie watched in fascinated horror, unable to stop watching the camera feed, disgusted and disturbed by what she saw, but transfixed, finding it impossible to look away.

The feeds reached last night, and she saw a glimmer of movement, of a cadet dragging an unconscious Keith away. Katie sucked in a breath. That was James.

Oh, he was going to be _dead_ the instant Iverson or Sanda took a look at the feeds. She started clicking, typing, modulating, then modulating again, copying and dragging old feeds into place, replacing the feeds incriminating Griffin with old ones where nothing eventful had happened, changing the timestamp at the bottom to match the date and time of Keith’s rescue.

It took a while, but then she let out a satisfied _whoosh_ of air as she erased all evidence of tampering and dissolved the feeds with Griffin in them into coding that she rearranged to be an incredibly bright and obnoxious screen background for Iverson’s backdrop.

Another file caught her eye, this one labeled “Kerberos”. She frowned, clicking on it. A password request flashed in her face, and she used the same password that she had used to get into the computer. Incorrect. She shrugged. It had been a long shot.

She set up her phone and plugged it into the computer, first typing in a random set of letters. The _incorrect_ screen blared at her again, and she grimaced, hoping that she wasn’t tripping an alarm. The password was fourteen characters, and she grimaced again. That was a lot of combinations.

She pressed a button on her phone, and letter and number combinations started flashing by, too fast for her to read. That was the point. The program she’d set up on her phone could plug in combinations to the password sector of the computer faster than she _ever_ could from typing. Her guess was that the phone inputted about two passwords every second, if the connection was good.

“Come on,” she whispered. It had been too long. They’d notice she was gone any minute now.

The file opened, and she looked through the probes covering the site. Her eyes widened, and she typed away on the computer, trying to download the file to her phone. It loaded slowly, _way_ too slowly.

 _Come on, come on, come on_ —

The light flicked on, and she winced, pulling out her phone before it could be taken away. Iverson glared.

“You? Get off my computer! How did you get past the guards?”

Pidge glared right back. She had to distract him from the _Keith Kogane_ file that was still pulled up on the screen. “You said the spacecraft went down due to pilot error! I saw the video feeds from your probes. There’s no evidence of a crash anywhere on Kerberos!”

 “Those feeds are classified! I could have you charged with treason for hacking them!”

“Where’s my family?!” _Keith too_ , she added to herself.

Iverson dragged her by her arm out to the hallway, handing her to a guard. “Escort Miss Holt off the premises and make sure every guard knows that she’s not allowed on Garrison property again.”

Pidge strained against the guard, stomping on his feet with a grunt. “You can’t keep me out! I’ll find the truth! I’ll never stop!”

The guard dragged her away, but she could’ve _sworn_ that as she was dragged away, she could see Iverson smile at his computer screen.

Xxx

Iverson barked an incredulous laugh as he looked at the security feeds from the night Keith had escaped. She’d done it. She’d erased the escape completely. A scowl darkened his mood a bit. She hadn’t been supposed to get into the Kerberos mission file. It had been locked down with military passwords- and supposedly some of the best computer security.

Still, he didn’t regret letting her slip away from he and Coleen Holt. She’d done what he’d hoped and that was enough.

Sanda was going to be _furious_.

He shut down the files Katie had opened and winced, his mouse going for the settings.

The over-the-top bright circus clown picture replacing his backdrop hadn’t been necessary.

Xxx

 

Griffin checked his computer again. Still no reply.

Keith had scraped the breakfast bowl clean- there wasn’t a trace of food on it, which made Griffin wince. He scooted his chair back, rolling it towards the bed.

“Hey, let me take a look at the back of your neck- I want to make sure there’s nothing wrong where I pulled that weird thing out.” He reached out, but a sudden noise made him freeze in his tracks.

A low snarl.

Keith was _growling_ at him, every single muscle tensed, either to fight Griffin or run from him, Griffin didn’t know which. Griffin held absolutely still, not sure whether he should back away, or just not move and hope that Keith didn’t bite him.

“Um… okay, then…” Griffin started to slowly retract his hand and push himself away from the snarling Keith.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, “I- _stars_ , you’re really freaking me out with that growling, could you stop, maybe?”

With the apparent threat of Griffin touching him gone, Keith stopped growling and fell back onto the bed, every muscle trembling.

“You cold?” Predictably, no answer. “Uh- tired?” Seemed to be a fairly logical guess, seeing as how much time Keith was spending asleep. Griffin shrugged. “Look, I’m not a touchy-feely kind of person either. I get it. You don’t want people touching you. Nothing wrong with that. But- okay, I’m not going to lie, that was _really_ unsettling.”

Keith just watched him with those wary purple eyes, and Griffin scooted back to his computer, giving Keith space. After a couple more minutes of no reply from Katie, he looked back at Keith, who was asleep again. How was he _doing_ that? If Griffin was asleep for much more than eight hours, he snapped awake, and he couldn’t ever get to sleep that easily.

 

His computer suddenly came to life, pinging a message at him from Katie.

 _Hey. Just got your messages_.

_It’s about time!_

_I know you’re feeding a_

_stray cat, Griffin. Anything_

_else you need off of your chest_?

 

Griffin frowned. He wasn’t feeding any stray- his eyes darted back to Keith. Oh. _Oh_. It was a code.

He cursed himself for being such an idiot. _Of course_ communication with the world outside the Garrison would be monitored. Why _wouldn’t_ it be? He was lucky that Katie had messaged him first before he blurted out that he was keeping a fugitive in his room. He blinked.

 _How did you know_?

_A little bird told me._

_One that has eyes._

_Just like the walls_.

 

Griffin nodded. She’d been on the security cameras. Somehow. If anyone could pull that off, it was Katie.

 _You want to adopt a cat_?

 _Can’t. I’m allergic_.

Right, that was a lie. Was the Garrison watching her? Or was it just her mother’s loyalties? Griffin severely doubted the last one. Mrs. Holt, from what he had seen, wouldn’t tattle on Keith. It just wasn’t in her nature.

 _Seriously_?

_Unfortunately. My next door_

_neighbor’s cat sets me off_.

 

Griffin got on the internet, using google maps to find Katie’s house, and then looking up the addresses of houses in the area. Ah. A Garrison officer lived nearby. Yeah, leaving Keith with Katie was a bad idea.

_Well, I don’t want him_

_around the Garrison_.

Griffin paused, thinking of what to say next.

 _He might get hurt_.

_Plus, pets are against_

_Garrison rules, even if_

_I am just feeding him_.

_I can’t adopt him, but I can_

_help you find him a new home._

_Just a warning, I can’t_

_move him much right_

_now. He’s too weak._

_He’s hungry._

There was nothing for a minute.

_Next town day, stop by._

_I’ll see what I can do_.

…

 _Don’t bring the cat with you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that thing I was supposed to be studying for went fine, so.  
> Fanfiction: Four  
> Studying: Zero  
> Me: Winning


	15. Mind Games

Griffin glanced over at Keith as he came back in from his Sunday classes. Asleep. Again. If he’d ever woken up in the first place. Griffin draped himself across the back of his computer chair with a sigh. “You are the most boring kidnapping victim ever,” he grumbled, “And the most boring rescuee ever.”

Keith shifted anxiously in his sleep, his eyes flicking around under his eyelids. Griffin frowned and flopped back around in his chair, going back to his research. He didn’t know what Keith had gone through, so maybe it was normal that he was sleeping this much, but he didn’t seem to do anything _but_ sleep, or eat like a ravenous wolf when Griffin managed to smuggle food into his room.

The computer chose that moment to fritz out and freeze, making a buzzing, electric noise. It was accompanied by a shout and a whimper from the bed. Griffin swiveled the chair around to see Keith awake and staring in abject horror at the computer screen as it continued to buzz. Griffin fumbled around under the desk and pulled the plug, shutting down the whole computer.

“Stupid,” he grumbled at the machine, plugging it back in, “All of my—oh, stars, please tell me that I saved my English paper before I unplugged it!” He glanced back at Keith. “You doing okay over there?”

Keith didn’t answer, only eyed the restored computer like he might a venomous snake. Griffin rolled towards him, but stopped halfway between the computer and the bed when Keith made a small noise in his throat that sounded like the beginning of a growl.

“Right, not too close, got it. What was that? Just the sudden noise startling you?” Keith stayed silent, and Griffin rolled back to his computer with a sigh. “Yeah, okay, okay, you’re a silent being, no answers for the person who saved you from a meat-locker cell. You know, I don’t really get it. You started talking when I got you out in the first place. You at least said Shiro. Now you’re just growling. Is that, like, your brain just now processing everything?”

There was still no answer.

“I mean, I guess it makes sense, way down the line, if you were just, heat of the moment, adrenaline induced okay, and everything just caught up to you? I’d think you’d recover with time, not get worse, but, eh, what do I know? I’m a pilot, not a psychologist.”

He glanced over. Keith was still awake, still watching him and his computer. “Go back to sleep. The computer isn’t going to attack you.” He shrugged. “Unless you want to tell me what was going on in that cell, that’s okay too.”

Keith didn’t answer, but his eyelids appeared to be sliding shut incredibly slowly, as if he were trying to stay awake but couldn’t. Griffin watched from the corner of his eye as Keith fell back into his normal comatose, his brow furrowed.

The moment Griffin was sure that Keith was asleep, he whirled out of his chair and crept towards Keith, quietly, quietly—

A growl started up, Keith’s eyes blearily open and warning Griffin not to get any closer. Griffin ignored the growl, telling himself that Keith was too weak to do anything more than growl. Hoping it was true. As he got closer, the growl tapered off, as if Keith had realized that it wasn’t scaring Griffin and had decided to change tactics. He pressed himself away from Griffin, back against the wall, very clearly not pleased and wishing he could get away.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Griffin said slowly, “But I need to take a look at the back of your neck.”

Keith pressed himself harder against the wall, as if hoping it would absorb him if he tried hard enough. A weak punch threw itself at Griffin, and he caught the thin wrists easily, pulling Keith back from the wall with ease. He winced. He really shouldn’t be able to wrestle Keith so easily.

Keith struggled to get away, thrashing and twisting as Griffin turned him around, pinning him down.

“Stop struggling! This is going to help you! I’m sorry, I know it’s not fun, but you’ll feel better later!”

Griffin reached to move Keith’s hair, and Keith started to shake his head vigorously, making it impossible for Griffin to get a good look at the back of his neck.

“Stop it! Stop moving around so much!”

Keith was trembling under him, and Griffin moved the hair quickly, looking at the spot where the knob thing had been. Something shiny was sticking out of Keith’s neck, and Griffin grabbed it, yelping as a tiny shock hit his fingers. It didn’t hurt too much, but he hadn’t been expecting it. Griffin pulled it out with a quick yank, releasing Keith and holding the metal wire thing carefully through his shirt. Keith shuddered and moved away from him, his eyes distrusting, betrayed, angry.

Griffin held up the wire thing. “This thing has been in your head this _whole time_?! No wonder you’ve been so shaky and tired!”

Keith curled his knees up to his chest, his back against the wall, still glaring at Griffin. He was still trembling.

“Yikes, no wonder you’ve been having problems. Where is it getting the electricity from, though?” Griffin studied the wire. He could see parts of the knob still attached. The part that shot out electricity, apparently.

“So, what, this thing was like an electric fence? Keeping you in? That’s sick. I mean, it’d be pretty effective, I guess, and not exactly a bad idea for keeping prisoners contained, but still, that’s… horrible.”

Keith stared at him with blank eyes, not answering.

“I talked to Katie yesterday,” Griffin told him to fill the silence, not even sure if Keith could understand him or knew who Katie was, “She said that she would figure out a way to get you out of here. I mean, I could think of several ways that would get you out, too, but unfortunately, most of them seem to end with me getting arrested.” He sat back down in his computer chair, working on his English essay. “I don’t think I can count on _you_ daringly coming to _my_ rescue, can I? Probably not.”

He stopped for a minute. “When _is_ the next town day, anyway?” He took a look at the schedule. “Two weeks?! What if they start searching the barracks for you, huh? Come on!” He took another glance back at Keith. He was still awake, carefully watching Griffin. Griffin shuddered.

He wasn’t sure that he wanted to go to sleep tonight.

Xxx

Sanda paced the office floor, her attention flicking to Iverson. “What do you _mean_ there’s nothing there?!”

Iverson lifted his shoulders in a shrug, barely hiding the pleased little feeling in his chest. “The night he disappeared, the security feeds show nothing. In fact, the security feeds in his cell show him sitting there, and then… he’s gone.”

Iverson was a little bit confused at that- Katie had plenty of time to erase Griffin from the feeds, and she had- but why had Keith just suddenly blipped from the feed entirely?

Sanda frowned at the disappearing Keith. “And he never appears again in the feeds? Anywhere? Not in the hallways, or any of the common areas?”

“No. Could be that the feed is faulty—“

“Or maybe… is there any possibility that the extraterrestrials could camouflage themselves?”

“You think he… what, turned invisible?”

Sanda’s eyes narrowed at the footage. “Maybe.”

“His clothes wouldn’t camouflage with him.”

“No… they wouldn’t…” Sanda frowned. “I want a search of that cell. For any weaknesses. Any way out other than the door.”

“Secret tunnels?”

“Anything, Commander.”

Iverson saluted and turned to go.

“And Commander?”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“If I find out that you aided the escape in any way, I will have you charged with treason and have you incarcerated for life.”

Iverson saluted again. “Of course, Admiral.”

Xxx

Keith watched his roommate—rescuer, traitor, his new jailor, he didn’t know which. His name was… Griffin? Yes, Griffin, who had pinned him down, had held him helpless, just like Sanda. He snarled internally. Somewhere, deep in his mind, he felt the barest traces of irony. He’d escaped Sanda, only to be the animal she proclaimed him to be.

But the rest of him didn’t care about irony.

The rest of him was _hungry_. Keith frowned. Griffin had food, didn’t he? Griffin was the one who brought food. Griffin was also the one who locked the door every time he left.

Just like Sanda.

Trapping him here.

Griffin wouldn’t let him leave. He’d traded one prison for another.

At least this one had food, and no electricity sticks.

That didn’t make it any less a prison. Keith had hoped when the knob was removed- when he was pulled from his cell—he’d hoped that maybe, _maybe_ he’d be free.

Then Griffin had started asking questions, and he’d known the truth.

He was still a prisoner. He was still being tested.

He would never leave.

And he was still so _tired_ , and hurting all over, and so hungry- although he _did_ have enough water now. There were two waterbottles that Griffin filled up every day.

But Griffin had _touched_ him, had held him still while he hurt him—his neck and head didn’t hurt as much as they had before, but Griffin had made his neck bleed, had just _grabbed_ him, and had been just like the guards who had put the knob on, who had pinned him to a chair and forced him to hold still.

Keith shuddered, still watching Griffin. Griffin had to sleep at some point, and he didn’t lock the door when he was asleep. Keith could run—that is, if his legs still worked. He should probably figure that out first.

Keith swung his legs out of the bed, standing up shakily. It drained him a lot more than he’d hoped, and suddenly, the truth hit him like a sledgehammer.

Griffin was keeping him this way. Griffin was giving him enough food to survive, but not enough to get better on. Griffin was keeping him dependent, unable to leave.

Keith’s shaky legs gave out, and he crumpled to the floor with a _whump_.

Griffin swiveled his chair around. “You okay?”

Keith glared up at him, saying nothing.

Griffin sighed. “Right, okay, still mad at me.”

Why was Griffin talking to him like that?! Why was he talking to him like they were the best of friends, or at the very least like Griffin wasn’t keeping him prisoner?!

Keith didn’t quite register that Griffin was getting up until suddenly, he was hovering over Keith, offering him a hand up. “It’s only been, what, two days since you got out of that cell? I don’t think you’re ready to start walking around yet.”

Keith ignored the hand, pushing himself up and collapsing back onto the bed. Griffin shrugged and went back to his computer. “This is what comes from my good deed of rescuing you,” he said, “I have an English paper due soon, and I was already supposed to have this part written out yesterday. Friday was a bit wild, though. I suppose this teaches me not to break the rules.

Keith tensed. Was Griffin going to turn him in? He might be a prisoner here, but it was better than Sanda’s prison of ice and starvation.

Griffin glanced back at him. “It was a joke. You can laugh.”

Keith opted for collapsing instead, relief flooding through him. He wouldn’t go back—go back to…

Keith struggled to push back the memory of the electric stick coming down, over and over, no rest, only that buzz, and the pain that came with it, that horrible, horrible jolt as his body jerked without his control, his muscles spasming—

“—eith! Keith!”

Keith jerked away. How had Griffin gotten so close without him noticing?! He struggled to blink away Sanda’s face, which wavered in and out of focus, sometimes Griffin’s face, sometimes Sanda’s.

“Whoa! Hey! It’s okay, calm down. It’s just me. It’s just me.”

And Keith saw, with some amount of confused relief, that it _was_ just Griffin, and that was it, no Sanda, nothing.

“You were thrashing,” Griffin explained, “and your breathing was acting up—I thought maybe you were having an attack?”

An attack. Keith hadn’t had one since that weight had nearly crushed him. Of course, that hadn’t been that long ago… but it seemed like an eternity.

Griffin sat down. “What happened? What were you seeing?”

“You,” Keith blurted, “You, but not you, it was Sanda, and her electric stick, and I didn’t know which was which, and you just kept turning into her and—” Keith’s breathing started to speed up. “I don’t know,” he whispered miserably. He couldn’t even trust his own eyes anymore, he couldn’t trust his mind—there was nothing that he _could_ trust.

Griffin was quiet for a minute. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said finally, “I was just trying to help.”

Keith pulled back into himself, throwing up walls and locking down gates. He’d gotten too vulnerable. Shown too much.

Griffin rubbed his temples with a sigh. “I guess it scared you a lot more than I thought it would. I’m sorry. I thought you just didn’t like people touching you- not that it was an actual phobia.”

 _A phobia_? Keith hadn’t considered that. But then, he’d never hated it when Shiro had hugged him, and before Sanda, he hadn’t minded if someone touched him, as long as they weren’t too close and personal, and it was strictly to help him.

“I mean, at least we know—okay, look, I think…” Griffin gulped. “I think I might have screwed up your head.”

 _Screwed up his head? How? Was that why he was seeing the wrong faces_?

Griffin toed the ground nervously. “Um—so, that knob thing—did it connect to your temporal lobe?”

Keith blinked, and nodded. He vaguely remembered something like that being said.

Griffin nodded a couple of times, looking like he was psyching himself up for something. “And… before I rescued you… Were you having any trouble putting names to faces? You know, facial recognition?”

Keith thought about it for a second, and shook his head. No. Granted, there hadn’t been many faces to remember, but he hadn’t had any trouble with them.

Griffin gulped again. “I think—I think when I pulled out the knob… I think it might have… I don’t know, sent out a bigger shock, or a different kind of shock, and maybe… maybe fried your temporal lobe. I mean, not all of it, obviously, because you’re still… yeah, okay, but maybe… I think I might have messed up your brain. And maybe that’s why you were having trouble recognizing faces.”

Griffin watched Keith for a reaction, looking a bit like he thought Keith might hit him. But Keith didn’t. He was too busy thinking about what that might mean. Not able to recognize faces? Was that why he was seeing Sanda’s face?

“I don’t think that would cause like, hallucinations or anything,” Griffin filled in, immediately crushing Keith’s hopes, “But—I’m sorry, I didn’t think… I didn’t think about the long-term consequences, I just kind of pulled it out. I didn’t plan, I didn’t think. I guess… kind of like I did today.”

Keith rubbed the back of his neck, which was still incredibly sore. His brain was fried. Great, Griffin had blown up part of his brain.

No, not Griffin. Sanda. Keith could make that distinction. This wasn’t Griffin’s fault. He’d just been trying to help. This was Sanda’s doing, her and her _stupid_ tests. Keith buried his head in his arms, his shoulders shaking. Griffin gave him space, backing away to his chair. Sanda had taken his freedom. She’d nearly killed him. And now she had taken his mind from him, too.

_What else? What else did she take?_

_Even if I’m free, can I ever escape_?


	16. Hope and Recovery

Katie tapped her foot anxiously, waiting for the doorbell to ring—unless they’d figured him out, unless they’d caught James and stolen Keith back—back where she couldn’t help him. Where she would never find him.

Finally, _finally_ , the doorbell rang, and Katie jumped up to answer it. James gave her an awkward wave. “You wanted to adopt a cat?

Katie grabbed him by his shirtfront and dragged him inside the house, closing the door quickly. “Okay, good, great, I’ve got a plan, come on.”

“Yes,” James said as he followed her upstairs, “So. This plan of yours. It isn’t the kind of plan that ends with me getting caught, right?”

“What? No, I’m not an idiot.” Katie opened the door to her room. “How is he?”

“Better. Not great, but better. He’s still… I can see ribs. But he’s not shaking all over anymore. And he can walk and stuff. So I guess that’s good?”

Katie’s nose wrinkled. “How does he go to the bathroom?”

James scowled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright. Oh! I’ve got something for him!” She bounded to her closet and pulled out a red jacket, and a pair of fingerless gloves.

She rather enjoyed the way that James’ jaw dropped. “How did you get those?”

“Check the pocket.”

James did. His expression shot up further as his fingers curled around an inhaler. “Seriously, where did you get this?”

Katie shrugged. “Mysterious package with no return address.”

“Dr. Orla.”

Katie frowned. “Who?”

“Dr. Jennifer Orla. Keith’s great defender. She hid him at her house,” he clarified, “She got caught day one because she was stealing him an inhaler.”

Katie nodded thoughtfully. “It could be Iverson…”

“ _Iverson_?!”

“Yeah. I erased you from the feeds through his office.”

“And?”

“And I think he _wanted_ me to do it. I don’t know. It looked like he helped Keith- not a lot, but in little ways. You know. The only way he could without getting tried for treason.”

“Oh.”

Katie shrugged, going to her closet and pulling out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “Here. They—they were Matt’s. From before he grew into a ginormous beanpole. I figured Keith might want a change of clothes.”

“Forget what Keith might want, _I_ want him to have a change of clothes. He kind of smells.”

Katie pushed back a laugh. “James!”

“He _does_! I know it’s not his fault, but it’s still not fun to be in there!”

“Okay, okay.” Katie hummed to herself. “How is he? I mean—mentally.”

James sighed. “I don’t know. Sometimes he’s fine, and then sometimes he’s having nightmares and he can’t even tell who I am. That’s another thing- he’s having trouble with faces. He knows _people_ —like, if I say a name, he knows who I’m talking about, but if I show him a face…” James shrugged. “He can’t tell me who it is.”

Katie frowned. “Prosopagnosia?”

“You say that word like I know what it means.”

“Face blindness. There’s a tissue in your temporal lobe—I don’t remember what it is, the something-or-other gyrus, I don’t know. If it gets injured, or sometimes you’re just born with it messed up or whatever, you might not be able to recognize faces.”

James gulped. “Can you fix it?”

“Nope.”

“What?!”

“There’s ways to get around it—remembering voices, or a hairstyle, or clothing, or the way you walk—which, by the way, is one of the most recognizable things about you, and something that people can track you by if you change something about your face—but there’s no way of ‘fixing it’, per say.”

“So he’ll just wander around, not knowing who’s who?”

“Well, like I said, there are other ways of recognizing people. Facial recognition is just one of the most common.”

“Stars,” James muttered, “Sanda _really_ screwed him up.”

“Sanda? It was definitely her?”

James nodded. “He had an… an episode, where he kept seeing her face instead of mine and—stars, he was _terrified_.”

“You don’t know for sure?”

“He won’t tell me what happened. He doesn’t say anything, really. He had an outburst a couple of weeks ago, and he hasn’t really spoken to me since.”

“You’re feeding him?”

“What kind of a monster do you think I am? Of course I’m feeding him.” James flinched guiltily. “That is, when I can get food for him. The mess hall officers have been watching me really closely for the last few days.”

“I can help with that. Well, getting food. I can’t help with the mess hall officers. But what we need to talk about is how to get him out.”

“He won’t be able to right now.”

“Okay. But when he is, I need to be able to get into the Garrison’s power grid, and their security system. That way I can shut down the cameras in your area.”

“Won’t that be suspicious, though? All of the cameras along a stretch of hallway going off?”

Katie shrugged. “Not if I turn off cameras in other places, too. Then it’s just random power outages. But I need direct access to either the Garrison mainframe or network for that, and I’m sort of banned from the Garrison.”

“Oh.”

“Buuuut, I have a solution!”

“Oh, a solution. I love those.”

Katie handed James a flashdrive. “This is a direct link to my computer. Plug it into your computer, and I’ll be able to access everything through your computer. Once we’re done, and Keith’s out, destroy it, okay?”

“Okay. How will you know that I’ve plugged it in?”

“Because a little pop up will show up on my screen that says ‘connected to the Garrison’. Wait for me to call you, though, before you try anything.”

“Okay—any idea how I’m getting out?”

Katie nodded. “There are four main entrances to the Garrison facility—those are the ones everyone knows about. But there’s a fourth way in, the service door on the east wall, only a little bit away from the greenhouse. It comes into the Garrison and goes out, but it lets electricians into the wiring, because it’s kind of in-between the walls. That’s not important, though, what’s important is that it’s unguarded because of all of the alarms and safeguards around it, plus the fact that no one is supposed to know about it. It’s Keith’s way out.”

“Except for all of the alarms and safeguards?”

Katie waved a hand. “I can deal with those. You just make sure that no humans find you and that you get to the door.”

“How recovered does he have to be before we try this?”

Katie frowned thoughtfully. “Well, I can’t get near the Garrison—plus, I can’t take him in, so I can’t get him. You can’t leave the Garrison. So I guess… I guess we have to wait until he can make it on his own.”

“It’s a long walk from the Garrison to civilization,” James said with a frown.

“Keith’s tough,” Pidge said, hoping her worry didn’t creep into her voice, “He’ll be okay.”

“What about the tunnels?” James asked, “The ones built under the Garrison during World War Three? Couldn’t we sneak him out through those?”

Katie was already shaking her head. “Those tunnels are long, and they lead even further from civilization—plus, GPS doesn’t work in there, so once you were down there, you wouldn’t know where you were. I think we should just stick with the service door. Come on, I’ll get you some food for Keith, and then you can go.”

She grabbed a small backpack, folding up the clothes and putting them inside, then filling up the bag with different snacks—peanut butter crackers, and meatsticks and tins of nuts.

“They’re just snackfoods,” she said apologetically as she added a packet of beef jerky, “But they’re the kind that actually keep you sustained, and they’re better than no food.” She thrust the pack into James’ hands. “If I don’t call you in half an hour after you’ve plugged the drive in, text me that the stray cat ran off, and hopefully I’ll be able to start.”

“Okay.”

Katie gave James a small smile. “Thank you. For doing this for him. You didn’t have to.”

James snorted. “Yeah, sure, I could’ve just left him there, dying. Get real, Katie. Anyone would’ve rescued him.” He raised one hand as he walked out the door. “Bye, Katie.”

“Bye.”

Katie gave his back another smile as he walked away. Did he not even realize what he’d done?

_Not just anyone would have rescued Keith. Most people would have been too scared, or wouldn’t have gone looking and have found him in the first place._

_Thank you, James Griffin_.

Xxx

Griffin unlocked and pushed open the door to his room, yawning. The other cadets had enjoyed the town day, but he’d just been waiting to get the eagle eye of the commanding officer off of him. The lights had been turned off since he’d left, which was normal, but looking at the bed, his heart gave a small jolt. Keith wasn’t there.

“Hello? Keith?” No answer.

Griffin scrambled to the window, which was open. “Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no!”

Griffin looked down. No footprints in the sand below the window, although that could’ve blown away. He scrambled up onto the roof using the drainpipe, cursing Keith the whole way.

Sure enough, Keith was on the roof, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, his eyes fixed on the stars. Griffin sat down next to him.

“Don’t _do_ that,” he huffed, “You gave me a _heart attack_. What are you even doing up here?!”

Keith nodded up towards the stars, as if it were obvious.

“Stargazing is _not_ a proper reason to run off and give me heart failure! Come on, back down, I’ve got something for you.”

Keith gave a sigh, but tied the blanket around his waist and climbed back down the drainpipe, sliding back into Griffin’s room.

Griffin rolled his eyes towards heaven. “Stars preserve me,” he muttered.

Xxx

Keith was sitting back on the bed when Griffin came back in, trying to keep an expectant look off of his face. Griffin opened up a small backpack and took out a bundled up piece of red fabric, shaking it out. Keith’s heart stopped. It was his jacket, his present from Shiro.

Griffin tossed it to him. “There.”

Keith caught it, and slipped it over his shoulders. It smelled like fabric softener. “Where…?”

Griffin looked very startled when Keith spoke, but recovered well. “Katie gave it to me. She said that it arrived in a mysterious package.”

Keith blinked, rubbing the fabric of the jacket between his fingers. He’d left the jacket at Dr. Jenny’s house, as well as his fingerless gloves, which Griffin handed to him. How had Dr. Jenny known where Griffin was going today? Keith felt something in his pocket, and he pulled out an inhaler with a small smile. Yep. Definitely Dr. Jenny.

Griffin threw a pair of jeans and a T-shirt at him. “We’re going to burn what you’re wearing right now,” he said, wrinkling his nose. He went outside to give Keith some privacy, and Keith pulled off the hospital-linen shirt that Sanda had put him in- it was absolutely filthy, and, Keith admitted to himself, smelled _horrible_.

Keith braced himself, and looked down. Raised, puckered pink lines crept across his abdomen and breastbone, marring his skin. Keith touched one gently.

_Admiral Sanda pinning him down and knocking him out._

_Waking up to find out that they’d cut him open._

_The guards, strapping him down so that they could cut the stitches off when his skin had healed enough on its own while he kicked and struggled_.

Keith shuddered and jerked the T-shirt over his head, hiding the neat, straight lines from view. Out of sight, out of mind. The T-shirt was a little baggy- the right length, just big on him, but it was _way_ better than that filthy shirt. He pulled the jacket on over it, settling easily into the familiar weight, and quickly changed into the jeans, which thankfully fit better than the shirt. He slipped his fingerless gloves, and let out a deep, deep sigh. Much better. Covered. Hidden. Scars out of view.

Keith knocked on the door to let Griffin know that he was done, and tugged on the jacket, wondering when it had gotten so loose.

Griffin looked him up and down. “You’ll grow into it,” he finally said, opening up his small backpack again, “This probably wouldn’t hurt.” He handed Keith a packet of beef jerky, and Keith felt his jaw attempt to drop.

 _Meat_. Stars, he hadn’t had meat since he’d been kicked out of the Garrison. It was too hard for Griffin to smuggle in his backpack, and Sanda certainly hadn’t given him any. He retreated to the bed and tore open the package, chewing happily on a piece of jerky.

Keith realized with a sudden pang that his jacket had gotten looser because he’d shrunk from the lack of food. Not height-wise, but his shoulders were narrower, and his arms weren’t as thick.

Keith shivered, wrapping his jacket closer to him. He looked over at Griffin, who had fallen asleep in his computer chair, and a stab of guilt hit him. He was taking up Griffin’s bed.

The guilt faded into surprise as Keith realized that this was his chance. He could make a run for it, now, while Griffin was exhausted.

Xxx

Griffin heard the hiss of a door opening, and he snapped up in time to see Keith with the small backpack, glancing down both ways in the hallway.

Griffin pushed himself out of his chair in an instant and grabbed Keith by the jacket collar, dragging him back into the room and onto his scrawny butt, closing the door.

“What are you doing?”

Keith stared up at him with eyes that were flashing with both fear and anger. “Leaving! You’re just keeping me prisoner!”

“I’m not—” Griffin growled and opened the door. “Fine! Walk out! Go into that hallway! Do you want to know what will happen? I can tell you. You’ll walk out there, and maybe one minute later, Sanda will grab you and throw you back into that tiny cell to do—to do whatever it is that she’s been trying to do! She will lock you back up again!”

Keith shivered, holding himself tight. “I traded one prison for another,” he whispered bitterly, “I shouldn’t have fallen for the fact that this one was a gilded cage.”

Just like that, all of the fight puffed out of Griffin, and he closed the door, sitting back down in his chair, sighing. “Look. Okay. I thought I was keeping you safe. Apparently, you don’t. I should’ve told you this sooner, but I’m going to get you out of here. Katie has a whole plan, it’s very complicated, and before we can put it into action, we need you in the kind of a state where you can walk all the way to town. Are you able to do that right now?”

Keith shook his head reluctantly.

“Right. Just wait, okay? I’m not planning on keeping you here forever. You’ll be able to leave, I promise. Do you understand?”

Keith nodded.

“Good. Go back to bed.”

He did, still watching everything around him, but now with something other than wary suspicion. Another emotion played in his violet eyes.

Hope.


	17. Escape

Griffin opened the door to his room to be confronted with a determined Keith, whose arms were crossed, Katie’s small backpack slung over his shoulders.

“I’m ready.”

“You sure?”

Keith nodded. “I can do this.”

“It’s a one-time-only shot. If we mess it up, it’s not like a simulator. We don’t get to try again. If we don’t do this right, it’s game over, completely. Sanda will lock you up and—I don’t like thinking about what’s going to happen to me. Not that what will happen to you is going to be any better.”

Keith shuddered, but didn’t back down. “I can do it,” he repeated.

Griffin nodded. “Okay. You can do it. I believe you. But not right now. We’re waiting for nighttime. Less people in the hallways. Go take a nap.”

“I don’t _need_ a nap. I’m not tired.”

“Yeah, but you will be later if you don’t take a nap now. And I have a class to get to, which is very important, because we’re submitting our applications for next school year’s flight choices, and also it is the last week of school. Go take a nap.”

Xxx

Keith stared up at the ceiling. This was it. He was leaving. Running away, where Sanda couldn’t find him. Where no one could find him. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. Leaving. Finally. Shaking off the Garrison. Never coming back.

He looked to the side, and an icy hand squeezed his gut. Sanda was staring at him coldly, her stick in hand, and he _couldn’t move_ , and nothing was working, and she was getting closer—why now, why today, how had she known, had Griffin told, why was she _here_?! And why couldn’t he _move_?!

Keith’s eyes flicked wildly from side to side, looking for a way out, _any_ way out, but then he realized why he couldn’t move, and it was because he’d been tied down—pinned down, and Sanda had put away her stick—only to replace it with a scalpel, the gleaming edge reaching for his eye.

“Those eyes are why you’re here,” she told him, “It’s about time I took one of them.”

At the last second, she changed course to drive the blade into his shoulder, shaking it around roughly.

“-eith! Keith, wake up!”

Keith snapped awake, smacking the hand that was shaking his shoulder, _hard_. Griffin jerked his hand away.

“Ow! Hey, whoa, it’s okay, it’s just a nightmare. Just a dream.”

Keith blinked sluggishly at his surroundings, panting.

“It’s your fault,” he realized, staring at Griffin, horror and betrayal rising from his stomach, “You—this was all your fault!”

Griffin blinked. “Sorry?”

“You- you told them about my eyes, and how they—and that’s how they knew, and why they came after me, and why Sanda—” He ran a hand through his bangs. “This is all because of you! All of this started because of you!”

Griffin sat down in his chair with a _whump_. “Oh.” He let out a deep breath. “I guess… I guess I never thought about it that way. I mean- it was such a long time ago, and we were only thirteen…”

Keith hugged his stomach, feeling the raised lines left by the scalpel. “You did this,” he whispered.

“I wouldn’t have told them if I’d known that _this_ would happen!” Griffin protested, “It’s just—what happened with your eyes really freaked me out, and… I just wanted to know more.”

“That’s what Sanda wanted too. To know more.”

“I would never-!” Griffin sighed. “Look, I never wanted this to happen. I thought… I guess I thought that they would run a couple of DNA tests, find a mutated gene and call it a day. I didn’t think… well, I didn’t think that what they found would do this. I’m sorry.”

Keith ignored the last comment, swinging the tiny backpack from Katie onto his back. He’d put the two waterbottles in it as well as all of the leftover snacks. “Let’s just get out of here,” he growled.

Griffin nodded and plugged a flashdrive into his computer. “Just wait a minute or two.”

Keith settled down into a tense sitting position on the bed. He was tired of waiting.

Xxx

Griffin paced up and down, waiting for his phone to ring. It stubbornly stayed silent, no matter how hard he willed it to ring with a call from Katie.

Griffin glanced at the clock. Half an hour had passed, and Keith was getting antsier by the second. He texted Katie

 _The stray cat ran away_.

Seconds later, his phone started to buzz, and he picked it up. “Sorry,” Katie said, “I was a little busy.”

Griffin grinned at Keith. “It’s showtime.”

Xxx

Iverson paced the security office, looking at an unresponsive computer. “So, no more monitoring phone calls and messages?”

“Not until I figure out what’s wrong with it,” the technician replied.

_Would’ve been nice if that had happened when I was trying to get Dr. Orla to send that inhaler to Katie Holt._

Two of the camera monitors yelped simultaneously. “A power surge just took out some of the cameras!” one of them yelped.

“Mine too!”

Iverson peered over their shoulders. Some of those cameras were in the cadet barracks. _Ah_.

Xxx

Keith followed on Griffin’s heels as they bolted around corners, ducking into classrooms when the tramping feet of guards came too close. Griffin had his ear to his phone, listening to instructions. They darted into a classroom, and suddenly, an earsplitting shriek rose from some kind of alarm. He slammed his fingers into his ears, but it didn’t help—the noise continued, drumming itself into his head.

Keith fell to his knees with a whimper, his ears screaming at him to _make it stop_.

Xxx

“Katie!” Griffin held on hand to block one ear, the other one still holding his phone. “Stop that noise!”

He glanced over at Keith, who had curled into a pitiful ball, his hands covering his ears, his body shaking.

“And hurry up!”

Xxx

Katie’s fingers danced over her laptop keys, which controlled Garrison functions, but she couldn’t find whatever it was that Griffin was talking about. She switched to her desktop computer, where she had the security feeds pulled up to show her where they were and which cameras she needed to turn off.

“Sector E, room fifteen, got it!”

She swiveled back to her laptop, finding the alarm and shutting it off, then back to her security feeds, where she saw two guards heading towards the room that the alarm had come from. She hijacked their helmets, sending an “all clear” message through the comms and then tucking her phone back under her ear.

“Okay, I told the guards it was fine, but you might want to hide somewhere, because they’ll be suspicious and probably still take a glance in the room, okay? Okay, I’m still on the feeds, I’m covering you, and I’ll check the rooms more carefully next time.”

“Got it,” Griffin’s voice crackled back.

Katie glanced at the desktop, watching the guards carefully, her fingers on her laptop keys. _Come on, pass by, pass by_ …

Xxx

Griffin dragged Keith under a teacher’s desk, taking cover under it himself and holding his breath as the door opened. Footsteps stomped closer and closer, and he thrust his phone into Keith’s hands.

“Listen to what Katie tells you,” he whispered, “Follow her instructions.”

Then he leapt out from under the desk and bolted for the door.

“Hey!”

Both guards chased after him, and Griffin pounded through the hallways.

 _I’ve bought time. Now use it_.

Xxx

Keith waited, heart thumping and ears ringing as the guard’s footsteps echoed away, chasing after Griffin. Once he was sure they were gone, he lifted the phone to his mouth.

“Katie?”

There was a startled gasp. “Keith? That you?”

“Yeah—Griffin just—”

“I see him. Idiot. Great. Okay, you’re going to keep going down that hallway, past a fork, and then the next for you hit, you turn right, okay?”

“Got it.”

“It’s safe right now. But when I tell you to, you’ve got to duck into the nearest room, no hesitation, just trust me, okay?”

“Right.”

“Go.”

Keith crawled out from under the desk, and scrambled out of the room, bolting down the hallway. _Past the fork, right_!

He turned down another hallway.

“Right! Left! Another left!”

Keith followed Katie’s instructions the instant that she gave them, flying down the hallway.

“Room! Right now!”

Keith ducked into an empty room, and he heard guard’s footsteps tromping down the hallway. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. How long before one of them caught him?”

Xxx

Katie simultaneously kept an eye on Keith and Griffin, watching as Griffin was apprehended, two of the guards grabbing his arms. She sighed, moving to her laptop and searching for an alarm to trip.

“You’re good, take the next right,” she told Keith, her hands on the laptop keys, and her phone pressed between her chin and shoulder.

 _Come on, Griffin. I understand why you did it, but now is **not** the time to be tragically caught_!

Xxx

Griffin smiled what he hoped was a charming smile at the two guards who had caught him. “Can we skip the trip to Iverson’s, please? I learned my lesson, I won’t go skulking about anymore—promise.”

The guards paid no attention, but both of them suddenly put their hands to their helmets, listening to instructions that Griffin couldn’t hear. They released him.

“We’ve got to deal with something else,” one of them told him, “You’re off the hook. Don’t be out where you’re not supposed to be again.”

Griffin nodded as they jogged off. “Sure won’t!” he called. He glanced around. “Well, that was lucky.” He turned a cheeky grin up at a security camera, giving it a little salute. “Or maybe not so much just luck.”

Xxx

Katie bit back a grin as Griffin saluted her and turned back to Keith. “Left. Right. Another right—there, exit the Garrison there!” She let out a deep breath and studied the locking mechanism of the service door. “Alright,” she murmured, cracking her knuckles, “Open, Sesame.”

Xxx

Keith panted and came to a halt in front of a door in the wall. “Katie?”

“Hold on, I’m trying to get it open.”

The sound of footsteps approached, and Keith glanced around, looking for a way out. There was nothing. No way to hide, nowhere to run.

“Katie…”

“Just a second, hold on.”

The footsteps got closer, and someone let out a sigh of relief. “Thought I’d missed you.”

Keith put one hand on his beating heart. Griffin’s voice. And his dumb hair. “Oh. It’s just you.”

“Goodbye, Keith,” Katie said sadly.

Keith felt a pang in his chest. “Goodbye, Katie.” He handed the phone back to Griffin.

The lock on the door clicked, and Griffin opened the door. “Ladies first.”

Keith glared at him, but went in, putting his hand out before Griffin could close the door back on him. “Wait. Why did you rescue me? Really?”

Griffin hesitated. “Well, I really _do_ think that I couldn’t have left you there if I wanted to because it wouldn’t be right to leave you to whatever Sanda was doing. But I think—I think maybe some unconscious part of me… I think it recognized that it was my fault you were down there. And that I needed to fix it.”

Keith put his hand down, silent.

Griffin’s nose twitched. “Anyway. Try to stay away from the Garrison. And… probably humanity in general. I’d like to think that this will all blow over, but…”

“Not likely with Sanda.”

“Yeah. Goodbye. And good luck.”

Griffin shut the door, and Keith heard it lock, plunging him into darkness. At the other end of the wall, another door’s lock clicked, and Keith opened it, exposing him to the bright desert sun.

Keith squinted, holding up one hand to block the sunlight from his eyes. He needed to get his hoverbike. And then…

And then what? Now that he had his freedom, what was he going to do with it? He couldn’t go anywhere near the Garrison. He probably shouldn’t get close to the town, either. So, what? He just stayed in the desert?

 _Shiro would know what to do_.

The thought was sudden, completely unexpected. Keith pushed it away. He needed to move on. To find something to do.

He traipsed through the hot desert, glad that he’d packed water. His jacket became a canopy over his head, and then there it was. The town. He hurried to where he knew his hoverbike had been left, but there was nothing but sand.

 _It’s gone._ Keith kicked at a dune in despair, and his foot hit something metal. He blinked. Wait.

Keith dug at the sand, scooping it off of a familiar red shape. He grinned, digging quicker and unearthing the bike. He switched it on, and the engine coughed out some sand, whirring to life, giving the occasional shudder.

“I’ll get all of the sand out later,” Keith promised, not completely sure why he was talking to an inanimate object.

He swung himself up, cruising into the desert. What was he supposed to do now? Just stay in his little house, hoping that he could survive on his own?

Then he felt it. A surge of energy that nearly made him slam on the brakes of the bike. What was _that_?

It felt kind of like the Pau Brasil tree, how it had exuded calm.

“Change of plans,” he said to no one in particular, “We’re not going home just yet.”

That peaceful, calm energy tugged on him. _Come_ , it seemed to say, _find me_. Keith started driving in the energy’s direction, but it faded, and he stopped. Where had it gone?

It pulsed again. _Trust me_ , it seemed to say.

Yeah. Right. Trust some random energy he felt. Sounded like a good way to die.

The energy pulsed stronger. **_Trust_**.

Keith closed his eyes, letting the energy wash over him. “I trust you,” he murmured.

It was like he instinctively knew what to do. He cruised gently through the desert, avoiding boulders and cacti even though his eyes were closed. After what seemed like effortless moments, but was actually an hour, he pushed gently on the brakes, sliding to a stop. He opened his eyes. He was at a set of caves that he’d never seen before. The energy was radiating from it, and he walked in.

_Quiet._

_Calm._

_Safe_.

Keith brushed the dust from a wall carving. A lion. How long had these been here, and how had an archeologist not discovered them yet? He wandered through the caves, looking at more pictures. The carvings were nearly the same, all of them telling a slightly different story about an arrival, a coming. Keith looked up at the carvings of constellations at the time of the arrival. Three months. One Garrison summer vacation, then a month of school.

Well, not for him. The Garrison might have kicked him out, but he had a new goal.

  1. Wait for the “arrival.”
  2. Beat the Garrison to it.
  3. Get this alien arrival to help him get off of Earth and into space.
  4. Solve the mystery of his mother, if possible.



 

Maybe the Garrison wouldn’t let him fly space missions.

But Keith was still going to see the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sooooo, sequeling is going to get a little bit weird now. There will be one called “Breathe Out”. Breathe Out will follow the plotline I originally had in mind: it’s Keith, in space, with asthma. The whole testing thing won’t have happened: Breathe Out will follow up Blood and Genetics, but not Breathe In. The only reason it’ll be part of the series and not its own thing is because I need Blood and Genetics to explain why Keith has asthma. Then, around the same time I start on Breathe Out, maybe a little after, I’ll be writing something else, with a title to be determined. Whatever that title is, it will follow up Breathe in. In fact, there will be many of these shorter sequels that follow up Breathe In because I’ve been set down an angsty path of no return. :P. R.I.P. Anyway, that’s how it’ll work, just thought you should know so there’s no confusion there.  
> You guys are the best! Keep Calm and Nerd on!


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